Perigee
by cestlavie0919
Summary: Derek's dreams are haunted by a strange tattooed man with a long red robe. He claims he's magic and he has been guiding Derek throughout his life, helping him to become the world's best Alpha. First paragraph is a better summary. Rated M for future sex. Derek POV. Feedback welcome and encouraged!
1. Chapter 1

He has haunted me for nearly my entire life. The strange man with tattoos that cover his body and the thick, long red robe he wears. At first, he only appeared in my dreams. He would talk to me, giving me advice, listening to my complaints. He started appearing in the day time when I was 6. My parents thought I had an imaginary friend. But he's real. I've always known he's real. Even now at the age of 20, I can still look over and see him. Sometimes I think I might be crazy… and given what I've been through, maybe I am. All I know is that I have five years to figure out who he is and what his connection to me might be, or I lose him forever and might just condemn my pack in the process.

He first began appearing in my dreams the night of my fourth birthday. He was always far away and no matter how hard I ran toward him, he was shrouded in mist. He seemed to want to get to me, too, but there was a barrier. Each night, the dream was the same. I would run and run, but he was so far away until one night, he wasn't. I remember this dream vividly. He smiled at me and I felt exhausted. I'd been dreaming about him and trying to get to him for three months. "You did it!" he exclaimed proudly.

"What'd I do?" I asked, puzzled.

"You passed the first test," he told me.

"What test?" I asked.

He laughed. "You're going to become a great Alpha one day… but you have to pass these tests to do it. You never gave up in trying to find me. So you passed your first one."

"But you're in my dreams every night!" I exclaimed. "There's nothing else for me to dream about!"

He sat down next to me in the blank whiteness of my dream. "That's the cool thing about this… you can make anything you want happen here!" he told me. "Where's your favorite place to be?"

"Uncle Peter takes me to the park a lot! I really like that!" I yelled, getting excited.

"Then think about the park. Concentrate on it!"

I scrunched my eyes tightly shut. "There's lots of grass! And a jungle gym!"

"You don't need to tell me," he said. "I'll see it."

When I opened my eyes, we were in the park. But there wasn't a line to use the slide, and the swings rocked themselves. "Cool!" I shouted and darted off. For the rest of the night, I dreamt of playing in the park with the strange man watching me.

The man let me explore my dreams and taught me how to create a world of my own. Together, he and I had adventures every night. It was fun. Before I woke up, he would always tell me: "You are destined to become a great Alpha."

* * *

Breakfast and dinner were sacred in my house. My mom and dad always cooked together while Uncle Peter rounded up me and my sisters, getting us all to wash up for the meal my parents had prepared. My uncle lifted me up so I could reach the sink. My oldesr sister, Laura, set the table and Uncle Peter fought Cora into her high chair which was set up next to mom's seat. Mom prepared a plate for me and Uncle Peter passed it down. Once everyone had food, my dad started to say grace. I was so hungry that as soon as he said "amen" I started digging into my meal.

"Did anyone have anything cool happen to them?" Dad asked. Dinner was family sharing time. Usually, I recounted my year old adventures of bugs I caught and the one time I accidentally shifted after falling out of my favorite tree. But today, I had another story I wanted to share. My hand shot into the air so fast my arm cramped. Dad chuckled, "Alright, Derek… you first."

"I had a dream last night and the guy in my dream told me that one day I'm going to become a great Alpha just like you, Dad!" I boasted, proud of myself. Dad's eyes lit up.

"Is that so?" Dad humored me. "Maybe I need to start giving you Alpha lessons!"

Laura scoffed. "I'm the oldest. I'll become Alpha next. You're never going to be an Alpha!"

I took that news worse than when I found out Santa wasn't real. My bravado deflated like a popped balloon and tears immediately welled up into my eyes. I ran out of the dining room as Mom and Dad scolded Laura.

In my despair, I ran to my favorite tree. Using my claws, I shimmied up to the highest branch I could sit on. My werewolf hearing hadn't quite developed yet so I couldn't hear the lecture Mom and Dad gave to Laura, but I saw Uncle Peter stroll out. His claws stabbed into the bark and he climbed up. "Hey buddy," he cooed.

"Is it true?" I sobbed. "Am I never going to be an Alpha?" Uncle Peter shrugged. "It's not fair! Just because Laura is the oldest… I'm strong! I'm brave! I can roar! I can be a good Alpha, can't I?"

He sighed. "Come down. I want to tell you a story."

I followed him down. He picked me up and let me ride on his shoulders, something I enjoyed doing. "I knew a little boy whose dad was the Alpha. He was the older son and he knew he was going to be the next in line for Alpha, but his dad wasn't so sure. Do you know why, Derek?"

"No," I replied. "Why?"

He picked me up off his shoulders and set me down, bending over so our faces were inches apart. "Because Alpha will go to the wolf who is the strongest, bravest, and has the best roar. Let me hear it!" I mustered up my best roar, which at 6 sounded more like throaty yelp, but I was damn proud of it. Uncle Peter clapped, standing up. "That's an Alpha roar," he told me.

* * *

That night, the man told me his name: Stiles. He told me he was magic and when I told him what Laura said, he promised me he would help me become an Alpha, but I had to complete the rest of the tests and I only had 19 years to do it. At the time, that seemed like an eternity.

I asked him what my next test was. "I wish I could tell you, buddy. But you have to complete it before you know. It's the rule."

I crossed my arms disdainfully, pouting my lips out. "I hate rules!"

He smiled, ruffling my hair. "I do too. But you'll figure it out. You're a smart kid."

"I'm not a kid!" I protested. "Uncle Peter says I'm an Alpha-in-training!"

He threw his hands up in the air. "My apologies. You're a smart Alpha-in-training!"

I wasn't fooled. "You're making fun of me! Stop it!"

"I'm not making fun of you, buddy," he said, kneeling so he was more my height.

"You promise?"

"I promise," he held out his pinky and I hooked mine.

"What kind of name is 'Stiles'?" I asked after the pinky swear was over.

He chuckled. "What kind of name is Derek?"

"My name is normal! Yours is weird," I told him.

"I'm magic. Where I come from, mine is a very normal name… it's just as normal as 'Steve' or 'Bob'," he explained.

"Then why didn't your parents just name you 'Steve' or 'Bob'?" I asked, as though that were the most obvious thing in the world.

"See?" he laughed. "I told you that you're a smart kid!"

I clenched my fists and growled, "I'm not a kid!"

He winced. "Sorry… forgot… Alpha-in-training."

* * *

**A/N**: Thank you for reading! There's going to be a rather involved plotline, so buckle up! But I think you're going to love it. You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll get your jollies... there'll be fun for everyone! Let me know what you think of the first chapter. This story will be flashbacks at first, but then it will be told from "present day" perspective.


	2. Chapter 2

He began appearing to me in the day time shortly after the incident with Laura. I knew how to hold a grudge, even as a child. I refused to even acknowledge Laura when I was in the same room with her. My dad watched, downheartedly, as Laura tried to apologize time after time, but I refused to pay her any attention, often walking out of the room while she was mid-sentence, usually resulting in her screaming to my parents about why she even tried. I didn't realize at the time how difficult I was being, but Dad did and he was increasingly unhappy about it. After a week of attempted apologies, Laura gave up.

I sat in the yard, shifted into my puppy wolf form, unburying my favorite action figure. I chose to bury it to protect it in case Laura wanted to get revenge on me by way of G. I. Joe. Once I had freed him and his comrades, I sat in the pile of dirt, setting up my wartime scenario. In all of the times I played with action figures, the figurines were werewolves and G.I. Joe was the Alpha. He was strong, brave, and I imagined he had a truly terrifying roar. I arranged the figurines into two separate "packs".

Dad walked up to me. By this point, I had dirt covering nearly every inch of skin and the two packs were in the heat of battle. "Hey kiddo… what are you doing?"

I explained to him the scenario, key players, and even how the battle was going to end: "And Alpha G.I. Joe is gonna win because he's the strongest and he's the best Alpha. He's like you."

Dad smiled, kneeling next to me, "Well thank you! But you know… being an Alpha is about more than just being strong, Derek."

"I know!" I told him, looking up from my imagined carnage. "You have to be brave. And you have to be able to roar really loud."

He laughed. "Yes, you do… but you also have to care about your pack… even when your pack members say things that upset you."

My face sunk and so did my excitement. "She said I wouldn't ever be an Alpha like you. But Stiles said I would be! He said I'd be the best Alpha in the world! He promised." I held up my pinky to signal that, in my mind, Stiles had made the most solemn vow a person could make. He pinky swore.

"And who is this Stiles?" Dad asked.

"He's the guy with the tattoos… the one in my dream! He's magic!" I told him.

Dad nodded, humoring me. "Well, this Stiles guy is obviously pretty smart to see that you would be a good Alpha, but you can't do that if you're holding on to anger… especially at your sister."

I was frustrated. "But it's not fair!" I exclaimed, exasperated that the adults in this scenario didn't understand my six-year-old logic.

"No, it's not. Sometimes Alpha skips the person who wants it most. Your Uncle Peter wanted to be Alpha… but it went to me. And who knows? It might go to him some day, it might go to Laura, you, or even Cora… but you'll never get it if you're too busy being mad about what is and isn't fair, and not being the kind of wolf who deserves to be an Alpha," he patted my back. "Does that make sense?"

I stared into space, trying to make sure I understood everything he was telling me. "So if I forgive Laura then I can become the Alpha?"

Dad laughed, shaking his head. "It's not that simple. By forgiving the people who do bad things to you, you let yourself heal from those little hurts that can keep you from becoming Alpha. You strengthen your pack by strengthening yourself as an individual wolf."

I understood that time. "So I have to tell Laura that I'm sorry for being such a butthead, don't I?"

Again, dad's hearty laugh cut through the air. "Yes, kiddo… yes you do."

* * *

That night, as mom tucked me into bed, she kissed me on the forehead. "I'm proud of you, Derek."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because you're my son! And you forgave your sister. It takes a pretty big person to do that!" She turned on my moon night light and turned off the lamp. "Sweet dreams," she cooed, walking out, leaving the door partially open.

Once my eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, I saw Stiles standing in my room, grinning at me. "You passed the second test!" he beamed.

"Really?" I asked. "What was it?"

"You learned to forgive," he told me. "And now, I can be with you when you're asleep or when you're awake."

"Cool!" I said. "Does that mean you will play G.I. Joes with me?"

He shrugged. "If you want me to! But we can't play unless you get some rest, ok, buddy?"

I yawned, stretched, and nodded. "Good night, Stiles!"

"Good night, Derek," he replied softly.

* * *

From then on, Stiles and I played every single day. He came to school with me, went on walks with me, and he kept up his promise of playing G.I. Joe with me. I often got frustrated because he wouldn't make the rival pack behave in the way I had intended, but after I explained my view, he went along with it. I became so attached to him, that I would make my parents set a plate for him at the dinner table. He never ate, but he always encouraged me to eat my vegetables, which is why I think my mom conceded to my demands.

It sometimes was lost on me that no one else could see him, and because of that, school became hard for me. He followed me to class. I was in first grade and I loved my teacher. She was nice and she let Stiles have a desk of his own, which I thought made him feel involved in the classroom. When my first show-and-tell came around, I thought it was only natural that I bring my best friend and show him off. When my teacher called for volunteers, my hand shot into the air. "Alright, Derek! Why don't you go first!" she said.

I marched proudly to the front of the classroom with my best friend, Stiles, in tow. I pointed to him and recited my speech: "This is Stiles. He's my best friend. He's magic. He likes to play with my G.I. Joes with me. He has lots of tattoos that he tells me are part of his magic powers. His favorite color is red because he has a red robe he wears everywhere. The end."

I nodded my head for emphasis, but no one clapped. They all stared blankly at me. One person even laughed, which hurt my feelings and I ended up crying, running out of the classroom and into the hallway. Stiles followed me. He put his hand on my shoulder and hugged me tightly. "They don't understand!" I sobbed into my knees.

"They don't have to," Stiles replied.

"But they don't believe you're real!"

Again, Stiles said, "They don't have to. Do you believe I'm real?" I nodded. "Then that's all that matters!"

The school called my parents to come get me. Uncle Peter was the one who did. The teacher stepped out of the room and in hushed voices, explained to my uncle that perhaps it wouldn't be a great idea for my family to encourage my friendship with Stiles. "Respectfully, I think we'll decide what's alright to encourage in him. He's come out of his shell. Discouraging it would only be harmful."

The teacher pursed her lips. "Well, we won't be encouraging it here."

"We're not asking you to," Uncle Peter replied. "We're just asking that you don't crush the spirit of a six year old."

He walked away, picked me up and carried me down the hallway. I was moved to a different class after that.

* * *

"Did your tattoos hurt?" I asked one day as Stiles and I played in the yard. We were using sticks as swords.

"They did. But it's okay because they're the reason why I'm magic," Stiles replied.

"You keep saying you're magic, but I never see you do magic!" I replied.

"You've never needed to," Stiles shrugged.

"So are you a wizard?" I asked, voice low.

He bent down so our faces were close. "I prefer the term 'Mage'. Archmage if I could ever figure out what some of these symbols mean…"

"So you don't even know what they mean?"

He pointed to one on his wrist. "Like this one… I'm not sure what it means, but I know it has to be important."

"Maybe I can help you figure them out!" I suggested. "We can be detectives!"

"Do you think we can do it?" Stiles asked.

"Of course!" I replied. "You're my best friend! We can do everything!" I blocked his strike and the stick flew out of his hand. "Ha!" I gloated. "I win!" I poked him in the chest with my stick for good measure.

He put his hand to the spot where I poked him and sunk to his knees. "You got me!" he exclaimed before falling over, his eyes closed.

I relished my victory for a few moments but Stiles stayed still. "Let's play something else…" I suggested, pushing his shoulder to get his attention. He remained still. "Stiles! I'm done with this game! Let's do something else." Still he didn't move. "Stiles? Are you okay?" I shook him more vigorously. "Stiles! Wake up!"

I began to panic and started to grab my hair, unsure what to do. I paced a little then went back to his side to try and get him up. Finally he opened his eyes and yelled "Got ya!" I screamed, completely taken by surprise and stumbled backwards before falling on my rear. The shock of it caused me to shift. I began to cry. Immediately Stiles was by my side. Mom ran out. "I'm sorry, Derek!" Stiles urged. "I didn't mean to scare you so bad."

Mom dropped to her knees by my side, quickly checking me over for any obvious injuries. "Derek! What happened, honey?" Between sobs, I managed to scream out that Stiles tricked me, pointing at him accusingly. Mom held me close. "Oh sweetie, I'm sure he didn't mean to. Let's go inside and get some cookies."

"None for Stiles!" I said adamantly.

She smirked. "Okay. None for Stiles."

Stiles followed us inside, sitting next to me at the table as Mom brought in a plate with two chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk. "I'm really sorry, Derek… I won't do it again."

"That was really mean!" I told him.

Mom watched my conversation with Stiles carefully. She could only hear my half of it.

"I know it was," he said. "I promise. It won't happen again."

"Do you pinky swear?"

He put his pinky up. "I pinky swear."

I hooked my pinky to his and then hugged him. "Do you want one of my cookies?"

He squeezed me tightly. "No, you can eat it."

"I love you, Stiles."

"I love you too, Derek."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I love writing this chapter! The plot will get rolling a little more soon, I promise! I just feel that it's important for you to understand exactly how close they are. The first few chapters are definitely going to be full of feels, but hopefully good feels! Let me know what you thought! I'll be updating soon! :)


	3. Chapter 3

When I was seven, I began to think that I was invincible. I was learning to control my shifting back and forth from human to werewolf and my throaty yelp of a roar was turning into more of a menacing yap. I was damn proud of it. I was still unable to feel the pull of the moon. Laura had begun to and it made her grumpy, though Uncle Peter said it had less to do with the moon and more to do with something he'd explain to me when I was older.

I began to draw. Mostly they were rudimentary pictures of the adventures Stiles and I had in our constructed dream world and snippets of the various tattoos that covered him. Mom would fawn over them and add them to the growing collection on the fridge. Uncle Peter and I started going to the park more. I overheard one night that it was because mom wanted to encourage me to start making friends with other kids. She was worried I had become too dependent on Stiles.

She didn't understand my friendship with him, but Stiles was teaching me that it was okay. She didn't have to. But mom didn't know about the nightmares he helped me defeat, or the fears he helped me overcome. She didn't see the things he taught me both about myself and how I fit into the world. She didn't realize that I knew that with Stiles by my side, I could accomplish anything I wanted.

I still didn't have proof that Stiles was magic. Every time I asked about it, he told me he didn't have a reason to use his powers. As a precocious and inquisitive seven year old, that answer didn't satisfy me. On one of the increasingly frequent trips to the park, Stiles hung upside down in the jungle gym imitating a monkey. He made goofy faces to go along with the noises and motions and I laughed loudly. The kids rarely ever approached the jungle gym when I was there because they thought it was weird that I was talking and laughing to someone they couldn't see or hear.

Naturally, the jungle gym became our home base in an imagined war of epic proportions. Together, Stiles and I monitored the movements of every child in the playground, planning ways to defend our station should it come under attack, drawing our proposed plans into the sand.

Neither of us planned for Eric Baker. He was a tough kid. Even though he was only seven, he looked closer to 10 and whatever he wanted, he got. Especially when it came to playground equipment. As he lumbered toward the jungle gym in a way that would have made his Neanderthal ancestors quite proud, he terrified me because at 7, I had little in the way to defend myself without shifting, which I knew I couldn't do in public.

"I want to play on the jungle gym," he grunted.

Rather stupidly, I refused to give up the jungle gym. It was Stiles' favorite. "I'm playing here."

"If you don't move, I'll move you myself," Eric replied.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I challenged. Again, not my smartest moment.

He climbed into the central dome. I stood up, ready to protect my territory. This jungle gym was mine. I had peed here. "Derek, let it go…" Stiles urged. "Be the bigger person."

"Shut up!" I whispered.

"I didn't say anything, freak!"

I growled. "I wasn't talking to you, butt face!"

I didn't see the punch coming. It landed painfully on my cheek. I fought back the urge to cry. I stumbled backwards, putting my fists up, ready to defend myself. Stiles pulled off his robe, leaving him in some strange looking pants. He looked mad. "Derek… get behind me."

For once I didn't question him. His tattoos glowed a bright blue. There was a burst of bright light and Eric was flat on his back staring up, dazed.

Stiles fell to his knees, panting hard. He looked exhausted as he pulled the robe back on. Uncle Peter ran over to us, so did Eric's mother. I knelt next to Stiles, both impressed and intimidated by his display of power. "What happened?" Uncle Peter asked as he got close enough.

"He hit me. So… Stiles got him back. He used his magic," I said.

Uncle Peter looked puzzled. "Come on, let's go home."

We never went back to that park again.

* * *

When we got home, Stiles lay down on my bed. He didn't look good. "What's wrong?" I asked him.

"I just need to rest," he told me.

"You really are magic," I pointed out, my voice teeming in awestruck wonder.

He nodded. "Yeah, I am. But I can only use my magic to keep you safe. And it's really hard to do. So I need you to be careful. Can you do that for me, buddy?"

I held my pinky finger out to him. He smiled and hooked his with mine. Stiles drifted off to sleep. I snuck out of my room and listened in on my parents and Uncle Peter talking.

"You have to be kidding, Peter. He's an imaginary friend," my mom said.

"Talia, You had to have been there. That kid slugged Derek, there was a flash of light… I saw a grown man appear for a split second, then the kid was flat on the ground," Uncle Peter replied.

"Honestly, Peter… think about what you're saying," my dad chimed in. "My seven year old's imaginary friend cold clocked his would-be bully with a flash of light."

"We're werewolves. Is it really that much of a stretch?" Uncle Peter asked.

"Yes!" mom replied. "It is! Maybe he needs to go to a psychiatrist."

Uncle Peter raised his voice. "There's nothing wrong with him!"

"Peter, calm down! No one's saying there is. Let's give it a little more time and see if he outgrows it on his own." My dad ordered. The Alpha had spoken. Uncle Peter walked out of the dining room, heading toward his bedroom.

I scampered back into mine. I wished that they could see him like I could. I crawled into bed next to him and pulled the covers over us, tucking him in tightly. "I hope you feel better," I told Stiles as I turned in the opposite direction from him and closed my eyes, trying to fall asleep.

"Thank you, buddy," Stiles yawned. "Sleep well."

* * *

The next day, I had to be content to play in the yard. Stiles and I took my G.I. Joes to a corner we never played in and began setting up our scene. After a couple of hours, we moved on. "What was it like getting the tattoos?" I asked him.

"It hurt," he told me. "A lot."

"Did you cry?"

"Nope," he replied.

"Did your mom kiss them to make them feel better?"

"No, she wasn't able to. But it was all worth it," he ruffled my hair. "Let me hear the roar. I know you've been practicing!"

I grinned and concentrated, summoning the best roar I could from deep within my stomach. He clapped. "That was great! Keep it up. That's an Alpha roar."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! The plot is going to start picking up a bit, I know it's a really slow build, but Just stay along for the ride. It'll be great! And as always, let me know what you think! You can also contact me via my askbox on Tumblr where my URL is .com


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter dips into some heavy stuff. Be warned.

* * *

What was supposed to be my carefree childhood became muddled with my parents' debate over what to do about, what they called, "the Stiles problem". They did their best to hold the conversations when I was supposed to be in bed, but I often heard them. I began to feel ashamed of my friendship with Stiles. There would be times I would cry myself to sleep as Stiles rubbed my back, trying to cheer me up. Uncle Peter was in my corner for most of those arguments, but soon, my parents stopped involving him in the conversation altogether.

I stopped talking about Stiles to my classmates because they started picking on me, intentionally picking fights. I did my best to defend myself, but there were times when Stiles would either intervene in my defense, or use his magic to erase the evidence my bullies left on me to help save me from my parents' scorn. I felt lonely. Stiles was the only friend I had, and he was the reason I couldn't make other friends.

Elementary school transitioned into middle school. Classes got harder, my body began to change, and suddenly, girls were interesting. Navigating puberty is a tough chore for anyone. Doing it when you're a werewolf and have a magical friend nobody else can see… that's damn near impossible.

My first time feeling the pull of the moon was a time to be celebrated. It was like the werewolf version of a quinceañera. My parents threw a party for me. My mom baked a round, white cake, just like she had for Laura. I got a few presents from mom and dad and Uncle Peter gave me a watch that he had been given for his first time. Stiles hugged me tightly after the festivities had calmed down and I returned to my room. "Congratulations!" he cheered.

"Thanks!" I smiled, hugging him back.

"You're one step closer to becoming the best Alpha the world has ever known!" Stiles said with a bright voice. "We just need to complete the last tasks."

"What are they?" I asked.

Stiles frowned. "You know I can't tell you. It's against the rules."

"Well… what can you tell me?"

"That I have all the faith in the world that you'll do it!" Stiles beamed. "And… I think I figured out a few of my tattoos."

"Good! I'm tired of rune books!" I laughed, collapsing on my bed. "So what did you figure out?"

Stiles sat beside me. I wasn't sure, but I thought he might have blushed a bit. "Again… I can't tell you until the time is right."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course."

"Hey! No attitude from you, mister!" Stiles mock-scolded. "You might be destined to be a great Alpha, but I can still take you!"

"Is that so?" I challenged, pinning him in a head lock. "I'm a bit stronger now, you know…"

"I give!" Stiles ceded. "I give! Let me go!"

Laughing, I released him. "I think you're losing your touch."

His eyes narrowed. "Just do your homework."

* * *

Even though I had to keep Stiles a secret, he still came to school with me. At lunch, I would usually sneak away to an unused janitorial closet where he and I would talk, thumb wrestle, or cram for upcoming tests. I would always leave an empty seat behind my desk to allow him somewhere comfortable to sit. In return, he would usually kick me to keep me from falling asleep in my more boring subjects, such as Math.

Math was my least favorite subject. Especially once the alphabet became mixed with the numbers. My grades were slipping and no matter what I tried, I couldn't grasp the concepts. Uncle Peter usually helped us with our homework after school and he did his best to help tutor me in the subject, but nearly always scraped by with a C, no matter how much effort I put into it.

Mom and Dad tried a different approach when I brought home a mid-term that had to be signed because I failed it so bad. "Care to explain it?" Dad asked.

I stared blankly at the table. "I'm doing the work… I just don't get it."

Dad pursed his lips, scrawling his signature on the red-inked line. He stared at the test for a few minutes before finally speaking. "I'll tell you what. If you get an A on your next two tests, your mom and I will take you to Disneyland… just the three of us."

My face brightened. "Really?"

Dad nodded.

I set to work. I requested extra homework, stayed after school twice a week, and on the next test, I made an A. It was barely an A, but it was an A. My parents were excited for me. However, when we began the new material for the next test, my heart dropped. I kept up my rigorous study routine, but no matter what I did, I couldn't grasp the material. I became increasingly frustrated. Stiles forced me to go to sleep the night before the exam, though I wanted to pull an all-nighter. "If you don't know it by now, all that's going to happen is you're going to be sleepy in your other classes."

I wanted more encouragement from my best friend, but I couldn't fault him for his honesty because it was true.

As I sat in the classroom, my exam paper on my desk, I stared at it, trying to figure out the answers. Stiles peered over my shoulder, whispering numbers into my ear. Against my conscience, I wrote down the numbers he gave me and passed in the exam. I made an A.

I felt torn as I handed the graded exam to my dad. He beamed with pride and put my newest "accomplishment" on the fridge. I went up to my room after that and lay on my bed. I felt slimy. I didn't deserve his praise. I didn't deserve the trip to Disneyland that he was now planning. I deserved an F. A big, ugly, red, F. I couldn't keep the guilt locked in. I couldn't sleep. Summoning all the courage I had, I knocked on my parents' door.

"Come in!" My mom's voice rang.

Timidly I opened the door, popping my head in.

"What are you doing up so late?" Dad asked.

"I…" I began. "I need to talk to you." Mom smoothed the comforter and patted a spot, indicating I was welcome to come sit on the bed with them. Slowly, I approached and climbed up on. I inhaled deeply, my courage quickly waning. "I wanted to talk about the test."

"Are you excited about Disneyland?" Mom asked.

"I don't deserve to go to Disneyland," I replied.

"Of course you do! We made a deal with you," Dad said.

"But I didn't hold my end of the bargain," I confessed. "I didn't understand the stuff my teacher was saying and… I cheated on the test. I got the answers from someone else."

Mom cocked her head to the side and Dad took off his reading glasses, setting them on his bedside table. "Who did you get your answers from?" he asked, his voice was steady, but I could hear the disappointment and it felt like a dagger going through me. "Be honest."

I looked down at the floor. He wanted honesty, but he wasn't going to want my answer. I was in an awkward position. "Stiles," I said meekly.

Dad let out a sigh. "I thought you were over this. You're 14, Derek. You need to take more responsibility for your actions. I'm glad you told me you cheated, but I'm disappointed that you did it and even more disappointed that you would lie to my face. You can't keep blaming your problems on an imaginary friend! It's time for you to grow up!"

"But I'm telling you the truth!" I argued.

Dad put his hand up, silencing me, his eyes glowing Alpha red. He was angry. "You're grounded, Derek."

"What for? I told you the truth! Just listen to my heartbeat!" I yelled.

Dad jumped to his feet, visibly fighting the urge to shift. "Keep your voice down!" he growled. "There's no such thing as imaginary friends. Only insane people see and hear things that aren't there. So either you're lying or you're mentally ill. Which is it?"

"Calm down! You're scaring him!" My mom scolded in a hushed voice.

Dad put his finger up, silencing her, too. "Talia, this is between me and him." He stared into my eyes. "Answer me, Derek. Are you a liar or are you mentally ill?"

Tears were welling into my eyes and I couldn't speak over the lump forming in my throat. Neither of my choices were correct. I wasn't lying! Stiles gave me the answers. But then… maybe I _was_ crazy. It wasn't normal to see things that aren't there. But I could _feel_ him… hear him… Stiles was as real for me as my parents. The difference was: he was more understanding than they were.

My father's voice roared, "ANSWER ME!" The sudden boom startled me causing me to jump backward in fear. Uncle Peter appeared in the doorway and mom put herself between me and Dad.

"That's enough!" mom growled, shifting. "Peter, take Derek to his room." Uncle Peter put his hands on my shoulders, guiding me back into my room. By this point, I was a mess. Once I was out of dad's sight, I dissolved into a weeping mass. Uncle Peter helped me into my bed.

"What's wrong?" Stiles asked my Uncle, but he was unheard. "Derek, are you alright? I heard shouting." He grew increasingly frustrated.

When I finally stopped crying, Uncle Peter finally said, "He's real, isn't he?"

I nodded.

"Is he in here?"

"He's right there," I said, pointing at Stiles.

"Why is he here?" he asked.

"He wants to protect me. He's been doing it my whole life," I replied, shrugging.

"He really got that kid at the playground, didn't he?" When I again nodded, Uncle Peter looked in the direction I had pointed. "I don't know what you are… but you've done a good job keeping my nephew safe until now. You're starting to cause him problems. Either make yourself known to the rest of my family, or please leave Derek alone. I can protect him from here."

Stiles looked from me to my uncle and back. "I'm sorry, Derek," he whispered. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't," I told him.

Uncle Peter must have guessed that I was talking to Stiles and began looking around himself for some sign that Stiles was there with them.

"I broke my promise and I put you in harm's way. It won't happen again," Stiles vowed. Blue light began swirling around him. I had to shield my eyes from it. When the light had finally dimmed enough that I could see again, Stiles was gone.

I didn't see him again for months. I stayed up late. I had normal dreams. I fell asleep in math class. I failed my exams fair and square. Apart from being a werewolf, I was just like any normal teenager.

I was also more alone than I had ever been before. My friend—my best friend of 10 years—had disappeared.

* * *

I stopped looking for him.

Dad tried to mend things between him and me, but our relationship was tarnished. He taught me a lesson that no parent should teach their child. He taught me that I couldn't come to him with everything, and I was heartbroken.

Mom eventually brought me to see a psychiatrist. At first, Uncle Peter argued against the idea. He knew what was wrong. But as I became more and more sad, even he couldn't doubt that I needed help. There were times that I thought he might have blamed himself for telling Stiles to go away.

My sessions with the psychiatrist always went the same way. He'd ask me vague, general questions to which I would respond with vague, general answers. After the second visit, he prescribed a pill. I began to think that maybe everyone else was right… Stiles had been a figment of my imagination… I had been delusional and that it was time I grew up and faced the harsh reality of the world… alone.

I didn't like the medicine. It made me feel like my head was in a fog. My appetite waned and I felt even more disconnected from the world around me.

"How do you feel?" the psychiatrist asked in one of our sessions.

"Angry," I replied.

"Why are you angry?" he prodded.

"Nobody believes me."

"About what?"

"Him. Stiles."

"Was he the person you imagined?"

I glared at him, using all of my focus not to go full werewolf and shred him. "I didn't imagine him! For 10 years, I played with him… talked to him… He protected me from bullies. My uncle even saw him do it once!"

The psychiatrist frowned. "I think I might increase your dose."

"No more pills! Please!" I begged. "I don't even feel like myself anymore."

"Well, you're not getting better, Derek. I'm finding myself at a loss," he replied, setting his clip board on the table beside him.

"Maybe I'm not getting better because I wasn't sick in the first place," I replied. For the rest of the session, I refused to answer any more of his questions.

* * *

After I was certain my parents and uncle were asleep, I snuck out of the house. I shifted and ran as far and fast as I could, not paying any attention to where I went. I ducked through alleys and jumped over buildings until I was finally tired, collapsing on the ground in my exhaustion. Frustrated tears streamed down my face and I pounded my clawed fists into the ground beneath me.

Once I caught my breath, I stood up, looking around myself. It took a few moments, but I realized where I was once I saw the jungle gym in the distance. I slowly walked over to it, allowing my hands to run across the cold metal. In my mind's eye, I could see my younger self with Stiles, planning our tactical assaults, laughing as we bantered back and forth.

"Please," I called out. "If you can hear me… if you were ever truly real… show me. I don't know how much more of this I can take." I looked around myself then climbed up to the top of the jungle gym. "You promised me you would protect me!" I shouted. Anger and pain fueled my accusatory tone. "But you abandoned me and I don't know what to do now! Please, Stiles! You pinky swore!"

I listened, hoping for a reply, but heard only the sounds of wind in the trees and dogs barking in distant houses.

I sat down on the top dome, crying. I shivered as the cold air cut through me. '_This is it,_' I thought. '_I really am crazy. They were right…_'

My body shook harder as the temperature dropped further. Every instinct was telling me to return home, but I didn't want to. I had been at the park for at least a couple of hours. I wondered if my parents even knew I was gone.

The sensation of being wrapped brought me out of my curled position. I looked at the familiar deep red fabric that had been draped across my shoulders. "Hey little buddy," a familiar voice said softly.

I looked up. Stiles was standing over me. He looked sad. In my opinion, he had no right to be sad. _He_ was the one who abandoned me. He held out his hand to me. Slowly I took it. In a blink of light, we were then back on my parents' property, sitting near the stream we played along as kids. "Is it really you?" I asked, finally breaking minutes of silence.

He nodded. I hugged him tightly, missing how it felt to be so close to him. He hugged me back. "I'm sorry. I thought that if I disappeared for a while, maybe things would get better for you."

"They didn't," I said into his bare chest. "They got worse."

"I messed up again," he whispered into my ear. "I'll never leave you again, Derek. I promise."

"You promised me before," I reminded him. I placed his hand on my chest. "It hurt."

Stiles grimaced. Somehow I knew that he could feel my pain. "I never wanted you to get hurt. These trials are just as much for my growth as they are for yours."

I looked up at his sad face as he rubbed my back and felt an urge I'd never felt before. Craning my neck up at him, I kissed him tenderly on the cheek. In his shock, he looked at me and I kissed him again, pressing my trembling lips to his warm soft ones. We sat for several long moments, lips to lips. When I pulled away, I felt my face growing hot in embarrassment. "I'm sorry…" I mumbled.

Stiles hugged me tightly. "It's alright," he whispered into my ear. "I missed you, too."

* * *

**A/N**: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please give me feedback, it fuels my muse.


	5. Chapter 5

I knocked quietly on Laura's doorframe. I needed advice, but I couldn't go to my parents or Cora and I wasn't sure if I could talk to Uncle Peter about this. She looked up, seeing the hurt confusion on my face. "Derek, what's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," I sighed.

She scooted up closer to her head board and motioned for me to come inside. I closed the door behind me. "Is this about the tension between you and dad?" she asked. I shook my head. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you need to forgive him. He's our dad… and he's our Alpha…"

"That's not what I wanted to talk about…" I said softly. I could feel the blood rushing to my neck and ears. Laura's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I… I kissed someone yesterday."

Her face lit up. "Congratulations! Who is it? Is she cute? Do I know her?" My eyes widened. I was unprepared for her barrage of questions. She punched me playfully on the shoulder. "Look at my little brother… having his first kiss… becoming a man!"

"It wasn't a girl…" I said softly.

"Oh," she said, cocking her head slightly. "Well… who is it? Is he cute? Do I know him?" Her eyes narrowed and her voice lowered. "Have I dated him? You know… there was that one guy, Samuel… I always had my doubts…"

"Laura, please!"

"Sorry…" she murmured, taking on a more serious tone. "How do you feel about it?"

I scratched the back of my head and heaved a sigh. "I don't know. I mean I liked it… but I feel really confused."

"Did you use tongue?" she asked.

I was positively scandalized. "People _do that_?"

"Maybe this is a talk you should have with Dad or Uncle Peter…" she said, realizing that she might have just traversed into the unfamiliar Birds and Bees territory. "Have either of them talked to you about…" She gave me a look that must have been significant, but I had no idea what she was trying to convey. My blank stare must have clued her in on that. "Apparently not. Stay right here… I'll be right back."

"Please don't tell Dad!" I begged.

"I'm just going to grab Uncle Peter, don't worry," she said. She disappeared for a few minutes, coming back leading our uncle by his hand. "I'm going to let you talk to him. I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"Laura! Can't you stay in here?" I asked, not wanting to have to recount it again.

"Absolutely not," she replied. "This is going to be awkward enough…" She walked out, closing the door behind her.

"So," Uncle Peter started, "Laura tells me you had your first kiss."

"Yeah and I'm really confused because I never thought of the person like that before and now…" I looked up at him, completely lost.

He hugged me. "It's only natural. Especially since you're a werewolf. Unfortunately, I don't think I'm the one you should talk to about this."

"I can't talk to Dad," I told him, pulling away.

"Derek, he loves you… and he's very hurt by the way he handled that situation… you need to talk to him, not just about the kiss… but about that night," he said. "I've never seen my brother so upset with himself before. It kills him that he reacted that way… and it hurts him even more that you won't even look at him. It's been months. You need to forgive him."

I sighed. This was not the way I intended this to go. Under normal circumstances, I would talk to Stiles, but considering that this was about him and that he was still resting from the amount of energy it took for him to transport us from the park back onto the Hale estate, I couldn't even go to him. It looked like I would have to finally face my dad.

Uncle Peter guided me into the living room where Dad was sitting, watching TV. I looked nervously at Uncle Peter who was slowly backing out of the room in his attempt to give us our privacy.

Dad turned off the TV and we sat in awkward silence for several long minutes. I had absolutely no idea where to begin. I stared at the floor and fidgeted. I could feel his eyes on me. "What's up?" he asked.

"Uncle Peter said we should talk," I replied, looking up at him.

"What about?"

That annoyed me. I knew that he knew what about. "What happened that night," I said tersely.

Dad studied me. "Are you here to talk because you want to have the conversation or are you here because your uncle told you that you should be?"

I shrugged. "Both, really."

Dad nodded. "Derek, I want you to know that I regret that night… and what it did to our relationship. I am _truly_ sorry." I could see the regret in his face. "I should have had more control than that. I shouldn't have lost my temper the way I did. I failed both as your father and as your Alpha. Can you forgive me?"

I felt choked up. The truth was, I idolized my dad. He was the kind of Alpha and father I always imagined myself being. "I forgive you," I managed, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Dad walked over to me and I stood up. He hugged me tightly. I hugged him back. I was glad that the argument was no longer hanging over us, but this moment was bittersweet because I knew that I couldn't bring Stiles up ever again.

When he finally released me, he looked into my eyes. "I love you, Derek. Never forget that." I nodded and he hugged me again, rubbing my back slightly before separating us.

When I could finally squeeze words out of my throat, I said, "I kissed a guy yesterday."

Dad raised his eyebrow. "Who was the lucky fellow?"

I averted my eyes. "Just someone from school."

"Do you _like_ this guy?" he asked.

I slowly nodded. "I think so… I'm just confused because he's the first guy I've ever _wanted_ to kiss."

Dad seemed to ponder that for a few minutes before saying, "Well, it's time you and I had a talk."

I could feel the butterflies in my stomach. I had no idea what I was in for. Dad went on to explain what "sex" was and consent, and how to please a woman. He admitted that he had mostly theory to go on when it came to men, but that I should do what felt natural and comfortable in the moment. Despite the easy-going nature of the conversation, I felt awkward as he went on. Then when the conversation turned to the werewolf-specific sex problems, I nearly died… especially when he spoke of "knotting." That horrified me.

"There's another thing that sometimes happens to werewolves," he continued. I braced myself for what I expected to be the grossest thing imaginable. I mean, how do you top knotting? "Sometimes, werewolves find a Mate. It's impossible to explain, but if it happens, then you know. That person and you… it's like you share the same soul. Does that make any sense?"

I shook my head. "Honestly… half of what you just said made no sense."

Dad laughed. "I know sex can be scary… strange… gross. But it can be beautiful and fun and happy, too. You just have to make sure that you're comfortable doing whatever it is you're doing. If you're not… then stop." I nodded. "And for the love of Christ, use a condom!"

* * *

I returned to my room, sure that I would have nightmares for the rest of my life based on the visuals I got from my dad's explanation of sex. Stiles was still asleep on my bed. His tattooed body sprawled across my blanket as drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth. I wondered what sex with him might be like… or look like, considering nobody else could see him. I began to feel guilty… like I was somehow violating Stiles for thinking of him in such a way without him knowing.

I sat on the bed next to him, staring at the tattoos that ran up his arm and onto his chest in the intricate designs. My hand traced along the symbols on his bicep. He stirred and I snatched my hand away. "Derek?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah?"

"Is everything okay?" he opened his eyes.

I nodded. "I talked things over with my dad."

He smiled. "Is everything alright now?"

"Yeah," I said. "He also decided to talk to me about sex. That was pretty weird. Do you have sex where you come from?"

Stiles winced. "I don't really know… I've been with you for so long that I don't really remember where I come from anymore."

"Where did you go when you left?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "It just… it hurt. A lot. It was like I was everywhere… but nowhere at all. There was a lot of pain…" He paused for a few moments, squeezing his eyes shut, visibly trying to shut away the memory. "Can we not talk about it?" he asked. "The important thing is that I'm back and that I'm here with you…"

I agreed. "Have you figured out any more of your tattoos?"

He shook his head sadly. "I'm at a loss. And there are so many of my tattoos that I can't see… I really think this might be the next task."

I cocked my head. "I thought you couldn't tell me what the tasks were."

Stiles smiled. "Well, I didn't say it definitely was or wasn't… all I said was that it might be. And honestly… I think it is. But these symbols don't look like any language I've ever seen."

"You know other languages?" I asked. I had only ever heard him speak English.

"Yeah… they're mostly magical languages… but this doesn't look like any of them," he replied.

"How do we read a language that neither of us speak? It seems like an impossible task," I whined.

"I don't know… but we have to try…"

I yawned. "Can we wait till morning?"

Stiles laughed. "Of course." He scooted over, giving me space to sleep. I crawled under the sheets and felt him put his arm around me. I dreamt of very good things that night.

* * *

**A/N**: So I want to make sure I give credit to my amazing beta reader, agrusahale! Thank you so much for helping me figure out and organize my thoughts! I also want to thank my readers and those who give me words of encouragement because it does wonders to help fuel my muse! Let me know what you thought of the chapter. The pace will start picking up a bit and we'll see some new characters introduced.


	6. Chapter 6

Much can change in six years. Unfortunately, the one thing that hasn't changed is the fact that we still know nothing about the tattoos that cover Stiles' body. There are no known runic translations of them and I fear that we might not learn in time. Stiles says we only have five years left to figure it out.

One thing that definitely changed was how I view Stiles. There are moments when I wonder if he really is a figment of my imagination… something my psyche created and won't let go… but I don't think I'd want it to. I love him. If he's a figment of my imagination then that might mean that I'm crazy but I don't care. He makes me happy. Uncle Peter knows that Stiles has been upgraded from imaginary friend to imaginary boyfriend and he does his best to be supportive. He was the only one I told.

For me, this evolution was slow. At first, I saw it as merely a crush. But the feelings persisted and grew stronger. I acted on them for the first time when I was 16. As I woke up one Saturday morning, I saw the sunlight creep through the blinds and fall onto Stiles' face. He has an odd face he makes when he's asleep. It looks like he's in a state of profound bliss. I watched him for a while before pressing my lips to his. At first, I felt awkward and even a bit horrible. When his lips moved back against mine, my eyes fluttered open. He smiled as he saw it. I rushed backward falling off the bed. "Oh my god! Derek! Are you okay?"

I could feel the blood surging to my face. "I'm sorry," I mumbled, trying to salvage what was left of my dignity.

Stiles climbed off the bed and helped me up, pulling me closer to him. He pressed his mouth to mine, his tongue darting between my stunned lips. I dissolved into him. I copied his movements, unsure of what to do. Teeth scraped against teeth and tongue caressed tongue. I wanted more, but he eventually pulled away. "I'm invisible, Derek… not blind," he panted.

I needed to catch my breath. I let my lips lightly graze his cheek as I hugged him close. "How long have you known?"

I felt him shrug. "A few months. But looking back, I've seen it since the night I returned. I just didn't want to assume something that might not be there. I also wasn't sure how I felt about it."

We sat on the bed. "How _do_ you feel about it?" I asked cautiously.

"I watched you grow up. You're my best friend," he said.

My face sunk. "I see…"

He put his finger under my chin, forcing my vision up to him. "I'm not finished. I love you, Derek. I've always loved you. And how I love you changes. I can't explain it," he said before kissing me again. When the kiss broke, he added, "But I _do_ love you."

It felt like I was walking on air that entire day, and each day after. Sure, ours wasn't a conventional relationship, but it never had been so why start now?

Things got more complex a few months later when I began feeling a little frisky. As we watched TV together in my bed, I began to rub his chest. He kissed my forehead. Soon it had progressed to me climbing on top of him, my tongue tracing along some of his tattoos. My hand ventured down to his waist and fingers slipped between the strange pants he always wore and his beautiful tattooed skin. As my fingertips grazed him, he tensed, wrapping his hand tightly around my arm and pulling my hand away. "Derek… stop."

I was confused. I searched his eyes, trying to figure out why he didn't want me to proceed. "I was just going to—"

"I know what you were going to do," Stiles interrupted. "We can't do that."

"Then we can do something else… you try me," I said, pulling his hand down toward my aching dick.

He snatched his hand away. "Seriously, Derek… sex is something we can't do."

"Why not?" I whined, the evidence of my frustration visibly poking out of the top of my boxers.

"It's not that I don't want to," he swallowed hard, his eyes trailing down. "Believe me there's nothing I'd rather do."

"Then let's do it…" I urged him, pressing my body closer, completely overcome by my lust.

"No," he whispered, pushing me away and getting up from the bed. "Until you've completed the last task, you and I cannot consummate our love." I beat my fist into my mattress in anger and obstruction, crying out audibly. "You're going to have to take care of it solo." He perched himself on a chair in the opposite corner of my room. My fingers ventured to my abdomen before exploring downward. When they finally made contact, I gave a shudder. It had been a very long time since I'd done this. Stiles looked away.

"You can watch," I breathed, staring over at him as my hand began moving up and down my length. I caught his sideways glance as I pushed down my boxers to give him a better view.

"We shouldn't be doing this…" he advised.

"_We_ aren't doing anything," I replied, arcing my back as the pleasurable waves traveled upwards. As I continued, quickly climbing to my peak, I could see his nostrils flaring. The light was too dim for me to see the tears on his face. I could smell the extra salt in the air, but in my rising fervor, I attributed it to sweat. My hand moved ever faster and I squeezed my eyes shut as a powerful orgasm ripped through me. I gasped in air, my body shaking as strange noises escaped my throat.

When my senses finally returned to me, I could see that Stiles was turned away, his shoulders shaking in a way that could only mean one thing. I quickly wiped the semen off of my body, pulled my boxers back on, and approached him. "Are you okay?" I asked quietly.

He nodded, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he turned to face me. "I just didn't expect it to hurt as much…"

"What do you mean?" I asked, wrapping my arm around his slender frame.

"I want to be able to make you feel like that, Derek," he whimpered, turning so that our bodies were once again facing one another.

"Why do you think I looked at you?" I said. He replied with a weak smile. That was the last time I masturbated in front of him.

* * *

Stiles and I fell into a comfortable routine. I graduated high school, and for two years, I've been working a job at a book store in the next town over. When I'm not working, I'm thumbing through the linguistics section trying to find anything that resembles Stiles' tattoos. The owner, Mr. Deaton, sometimes jokes that he needs to pay me to spend time away from the store. Stiles usually goes to my job with me and there have been moments when I could have sworn I saw Mr. Deaton's eyes linger on Stiles, but I knew that it couldn't be true.

One afternoon as I was restocking a basket full of books that an 89 year old lady pulled from the shelves before she realized that none of them were large print, Mr. Deaton came up to me. "I found this in an old chest. I thought it might interest you." From behind his back he pulled a rather old and worn looking tome.

I set the basket down on the floor and carefully took the book from him. "What is it?" I asked.

"That looks familiar!" Stiles exclaimed as I scanned the first page. There was a combination of strange symbols and English.

"It should," Deaton said. "It's tattooed all over your body."

"You're right!" I gasped before realizing that he had responded to Stiles. I looked over to Stiles who was staring warily at my boss.

"You think I wouldn't recognize one of my own kind?"

"But you… he… I…" I stammered, unable to actually form coherent words.

Stiles put his arm out, inching me backwards. I had seen him do that before. He was readying himself to protect me. "How can you see me?" Stiles demanded.

"I come from the same place you do. I was taught in the same language you were… and I know what it's like to be bound," he replied.

"Have you always been able to see him?" I asked.

Deaton nodded, smiling. "For two years. It's one of the reasons I hired you. I needed to make sure you were ready."

"Ready for what?" I asked. Stiles was outraged.

"We're running out of time! How long have you had this book?" Stiles interjected. "You could have given it to us sooner!"

"How much time do you have left?" Mr. Deaton asked.

"About five years, give or take?" Stiles replied.

"Then you two need to get started…" Deaton grinned.

"But you still haven't answered—" I began.

"Don't worry, I will… in time. If you need help, just ask," Deaton told them. "All will reveal itself."

* * *

Stiles stood there as I copied a stream of characters onto paper. "Does it creep you out that your boss knew?"

"More than you know," I sighed. "What's worse… he knew there was a time limit and let us get this close before offering us the book…. And I'm done with that section. Let's look them up."

Stiles looked over my shoulder as I thumbed through. The language inscribed on his skin was complex. One symbol could be anything from a letter to a sentence. Slight, sometimes imperceptible variances could distinguish two different characters and each would have a drastically different meaning. I sighed in exasperation, looking up at Stiles. "Is there anything about this that _you're_ not telling me? I need to know now."

Stiles nodded. "There's a lot that I haven't told you, but it's because I'm forbidden to do so. It's stuff you have to figure out on your own."

I glared. "What did Deaton mean when he said that you are one of his kind? What are you?"

"I'm magic," Stiles replied simply.

"You've been saying that my whole life!" I shouted, my temper rising. I knew it wasn't Stiles' fault, but I was tired of secrets and I was more than a little shaken by the revelation that my boss might know more about my boyfriend than I do. "What does that _mean_?"

Stiles frowned as he plopped down on my bed. "I can't explain it…"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course not. That would make things easy."

"Derek, I really wish I could," Stiles said apologetically. "When you understand the writing, you'll understand why."

"How is that supposed to happen? I have five years to become fluent in a language nobody else knows, not even you… what happens if I don't do it in time?" I demanded.

Stiles was silent for several long moments. He sighed before looking into my eyes. "I die."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As I said, the pace is going to pick up a bit. The scene has now been set and we're in the present day of Derek's life. As I'm sure you realized by now, this AU does NOT feature a Hale Fire because without Kate Argent, there would have been no fire... so expect lots more family feels. :) As always, feedback is highly encouraged. You can also follow or contact me on tumblr by where my url is "amothafuckingquiche".


	7. Chapter 7

"You die?" I replied, staring at him. My anger was rising. "What do you mean 'you die'? Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"

"I didn't want you to worry… or feel rushed," Stiles admitted.

"Well, you failed because now I'm worried and I feel rushed. We have less than five years to figure out what every symbol on your body means… even with this book, none of it makes any sense. And if I don't succeed… I lose you forever," I said. I could feel my claws were extending.

"Derek… focus," Stiles ordered.

I closed my eyes and tried to reign in the transformation. It was hard because the full moon was approaching. "What do we do?" I growled.

"We talk to your boss."

* * *

"I didn't expect you to be back so soon," Mr. Deaton mused as we walked through the door. I flipped the "Open" sign to "Closed" and locked the door behind us.

"We need you to tell us everything you know," I told him. "We've tried the book. None of it makes sense. But first, I need to know… how do you know all of this?"

Deaton motioned for us to go into the small staff lounge. He poured some coffee and passed me a cup. I set it on the table without drinking it. "How long have you and Stiles been linked?" he asked.

"I've been seeing him since I was four years old," I told him.

He sighed. "And what has Stiles told you about where he comes from?"

I shook my head. "Nothing. He can't remember it."

Deaton sighed again. "Our race is a very powerful one. We have existed for eons and occasionally, we've meddled somewhat in human history. Primitive peoples saw us as gods. They worshipped us and we had to stop it, but we needed a way to ensure that things went along as they should, so we chose to only appear to werewolves. Certain powerful lines have caught our attention and we team up with them to help ensure that other supernatural forces stay in check. But to send that much raw power into this world can be dangerous, so we bind the magic of those selected to go, using spells tattooed onto their skin. We then teach the werewolf the language so that they can read the spells and free us, allowing us to help them if needed. But occasionally, the binding magic can go wrong. Our language is complex. Tiny mistakes can have drastic consequences. I think that in Stiles' case, One or more of the symbols was placed incorrectly causing him to appear to you too soon… and lose his memory of our home world."

"So what does this mean?" I asked.

"It means that the longer Stiles stays bound, the more likely he is to forget the rules. We've established the rules for a reason, Derek," Deaton replied. "We can't just give this sort of power over for free. We have to know that the person who gets it can handle it. I know you two love each other… have you?"

"I don't see how that's any of your business," I retorted. Stiles shifted uncomfortably.

"If you consummate your love before he's unbound, he becomes trapped. No matter what you do, you can't unbind him," Deaton told me.

"How are you able to see me?" Stiles asked, wanting to change the subject. I didn't blame him. The last thing I wanted to discuss with my boss was sex.

"After the werewolf I was assigned to protect died, I lost my power… but enough of my magic remains that I can see you," Deaton replied.

"Is that why your tattoos are gone?" Stiles asked.

Deaton nodded. "They faded with my magic."

"So how do we unbind him?" I asked.

"You have to learn to read his tattoos. By reading them, you unbind that part of the magic. It differs from person to person, but generally different parts of the body hold magic binding certain aspects of his power… and then there's one last spell that binds him to you. When you read that, he's free… but it won't work unless the rest of the spells are undone," Deaton instructed.

"And how is he supposed to read them? I can't teach him the language… I don't even know it!" Stiles replied.

"I'll help you. The more you unbind, the more he should remember," Deaton reasoned.

* * *

It took us a full three months to decipher the tattoos on Stiles' arms and torso, finding the majority of the mistakes that would have caused him to be sent to the wrong time of my life and to lose his memory. Unfortunately, it turned out that much of the writing was merely the magic that bound him and only on his right arm were we able to find spells that released more of his magic.

It took another six months to decipher his back, which really turned out to be the spells that bound Stiles magic to him. The large symbol in the center of his back, we learned was called a "triskele" but there wasn't more information than about it in the book.

Once we were done with that, I was much better at reading the script and it took a little more than two more months to read the spells inscribed into his legs.

"This makes no sense," I said one night as I studied a piece of script on his thigh.

"What?" Stiles asked, looking at the symbols.

"The spell on this leg undoes the spell on your other leg which keeps you weak after you use your magic… but there's this part right here. If I translated it right, it means that this spell will increase your power… and your power will be 'increased thricefold upon being' and I don't understand what that symbol is. I've tried looking it up, but it's not in the book," I told him.

Stiles studied the symbol then is eyes widened. "That symbol appears somewhere else."

"Where… I've not seen it anywhere on your body," I replied.

"Because you haven't seen my entire body," Stiles said softly.

I looked up at him confused, before realizing what that meant. "So in order to understand what that means I need to understand the symbols down there…" I confirmed, glancing down at his groin.

Stiles nodded awkwardly.

"And why didn't you tell me there were symbols there?" I asked.

"I didn't think we'd need those…" Stiles admitted.

"Well… we do so skin to the wind," I told him.

Stiles stood up and grabbed the waist of his pants. I could see him blushing as he slowly pulled them down. I had to brace myself. I wasn't expecting to be as aroused as I was by the sight of his naked body. He stood there awkwardly as I inspected the symbols that spiraled around his penis.

"Would it help you feel less awkward if I got naked too?" I asked him.

"N-no!" he stammered. "You're a horny 21 year-old and I'm… well… It's hard enough to practice the self-control I need to. Keep your clothes on."

I read over the symbols several times. The version of the symbol that appeared there looked slightly different. I thumbed through the book again, finding a good translation. "It says that One bind must be traded for another… the wolf you protect must be your..." I stopped at that last word.

"Must be your what?" Stiles demanded.

I tried to form words. My mind replayed the awkward sex conversation I had with Dad. "I'll be right back," I said and ran downstairs.

"Whoa Derek… slow down!" Cora yelled as I nearly trampled her in my attempt to find my dad or my uncle.

"I'm sorry… this is important!" I called back, jumping down the stairs. "Dad! Uncle Peter!"

Both were in the living room with mom, watching TV. "What is it?" Dad asked as I burst into the room.

"Oh… Mom… you're here… this is awkward," I said softly.

"If I'm not welcome to the conversation, I can leave…" she said, clearly a bit offended.

"I didn't mean it like that… sorry. And go ahead and stay… you'll find out soon enough anyway," I said.

"Is everything alright?" Uncle Peter asked.

"Not exactly," I replied. "What I'm about to say is going to sound weird. I'm not on any drugs… I'm not crazy. I just need you to hear me out."

All three of them looked at me with blank faces.

"How do I know if I've found my Mate?"

"Oh my God," Mom whispered. Uncle Peter glanced awkwardly at Dad who sat there, mouth agape.

He took a deep breath, glancing to his wife and brother before looking back at me. "Well, have you had sex with this person?"

"No," I replied. "I'm a virgin."

Laura had been walking by at that moment. "You're 21 and you're a virgin? Derek… really?"

"Laura, don't tease him!" Mom scolded.

If I hadn't been in front of my parents, I would have responded that I very soon would not be.

Dad cleared his throat and we all returned our attention to him. "When you have sex with this person for the first time, you won't be able to resist the urge to knot them. When that happens… this sensation will come over you…"

Mom cut him off. "It's an amazing feeling, Derek. It's more emotional than physical though. You may see things… glimpses of your life with this person past or future. It's beautiful…" As she told me, she stared adoringly at my father who smiled back.

"So who's this person you think might be your Mate?" Uncle Peter asked.

I took a deep breath. "It's Stiles."

Immediately I saw Mom and Dad's expressions change. Uncle Peter was the first to speak, thankfully. "I always thought he would be…"

"Peter… why are you encouraging this? Derek… do you need to go back to the doctor?" Dad asked. "Stiles isn't real…"

"But he is!" I replied, my response more passionate than angry. "And I think I can prove it."

Uncle Peter smiled at me knowingly. He turned to my parents. "Trust him on this one…"

I ran back up to my room leaving my family members entirely dumbfounded. I closed my door and locked it behind me, attacking Stiles' mouth with mine. "You're my Mate," I said when the kiss broke. "You trade one bind for another… the bind of service to me gets switched with a Mating bond. You'll become three times as powerful afterwards."

Stiles smiled as he began to glow. His skin was luminous and his tattoos were bright blue. I shielded my eyes for several long minutes. I felt a burning sensation in my back. The pain forced me to my knees and just as abruptly as it began, it faded. The glow surrounding Stiles faded and he turned around slightly.

Two parts of his triskele tattoo were missing from his back. I looked in the mirror above my dresser and could see the two connected swirls still glowing slightly with the magic

He gave me a smile. "What happened?" he asked, sinking to the floor.

I ran the part of the spell through my head again. "You trade one bind for another... now put some clothes on. I have some gloating to do."

Stiles pulled on some clothes and I led him downstairs into the living room. My parents jaws dropped. "Mom, Dad, Uncle Peter… Meet Stiles."

"Holy shit he's real," Dad breathed. Mom sat there, unsure how to react. Uncle Peter stood up and hugged Stiles.

"It's great to finally meet you," he said warmly.

Stiles smiled at my Uncle's gesture and hugged him back. Dad stared at him, then looked to me. "Derek… I'm sorry I didn't believe you…"

Cora came running down the stairs. "What's going on… who is this?"

Mom took a deep breath. "Cora… meet Stiles… your brother's… not-so-imaginary friend…"

"Boyfriend," I corrected.

"Mate, it seems," Uncle Peter added.

"So did you two…" Dad started.

I shook my head. Mom seemed both saddened and relieved. "Well… what do you say we go out and do something and give you two some time alone…"

"Really?" I asked, wanting to make sure this wasn't a trick.

Mom nodded. "Preferably somewhere with alcohol."

"I second that," Dad replied.

Uncle Peter laughed and hugged me tightly. "I knew you could do it," he whispered into my ear as I hugged him back. Before he released me, he added, "Good luck."

I smiled as my family filed out of the house and into the van. Mom and Dad both looked somewhat pale. But I didn't care… I had proven to them that I wasn't crazy all this time. And for the first time since I was four, they could see him just as plainly as I could.

When I could no longer see their tail lights, I closed the door and took Stiles' hand, leading him back up to my room. This wasn't exactly how I anticipated my first time being. "We still need to solidify our bond as Mates," I told him.

"And how do we do that?" he asked as I ripped the clothes from our bodies.

"We… umm…" I started. "We have to have sex."

"Anything to get into my pants…" Stiles chuckled.

"What pants?" I asked. "You're naked. And time is a factor here!"

Following the lead I got from years of watching porn, I began the process of trying to loosen him up and prepare him for what was about to happen. He winced as my slick, lubed finger pushed into him, soon followed by a second, then third. I kissed him before taking his dick into my mouth. It felt strange, but he seemed to enjoy it as he moaned little words of encouragement. He scratched at my sheets and his hips moved wildly. I could tell he was getting close, but I didn't want him to finish yet.

I withdrew my fingers and stroked myself, adding more lube because I wanted this to hurt as little as possible for him. "Are you ready?" I asked softly as I lined myself up. He stared into my eyes as he nodded and I slowly began pushing in. He tensed up. "Am I hurting you?" I asked.

"I preferred that thing you were doing with your mouth… just… go slowly," he replied. I leaned forward and kissed him. As I felt him relax around me, I pushed in a little more. I was barely halfway in and I knew that it wasn't going to last too long. Everything felt so warm and tight. I could even feel the base of my dick swelling in a way it never had before. I figured this must have been what Dad meant when he spoke of "knotting". I became worried that Stiles would be hurt by that. "You can move a bit faster," he told me. I breathed his scent into my lungs and began moving more rapidly, going deeper and deeper as he relaxed more beneath me. Before long, his grunts morphed into moans.

I could feel my werewolf half stirring more and more as I reached my climax. I didn't know if I could keep control if I shifted so I fought it, burying my claws into the mattress on either side of Stiles. With one final thrust, I forced my knot into him, causing him to scream a bit. It felt like thunder within me. My mind flashed glimpses of my past with Stiles, both the good times and the bad. I then saw older versions of myself, including images in which I had red eyes. In all the future scenes, Stiles was by my side and we were happy. I felt tears spilling out of my eyes and onto Stiles chest as I was overcome by the emotion of the Mating claim.

We stayed like that for a while, locked in the same position. We didn't speak, but we kissed a lot. It felt nice. When the knot finally faded, I pulled out of him and fell by his side, my energy completely spent.

"That was amazing," he told me.

"It was," I agreed.

"Is it what you wanted it to be?"

"It was so much more…"

* * *

**A/N: **I hope you liked this chapter! It's not the end, but the end is in sight. Please let me know what you think. :)


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles woke up before I did the next morning. It was the scent of breakfast cooking downstairs that actually roused me. Stiles' kiss was just an added bonus. I kissed him back, still half asleep. "How are you feeling?" I asked, trying to work through the haze hanging over me.

"I'm fine… and yourself?"

"Pretty good," I replied. "I'm sorry I didn't last long…"

Stiles smiled. "It was our first time. I didn't expect a marathon. I don't think I would have been able to handle that, to be honest…"

I couldn't believe how much I loved him. And now that the Mate Bond was solidified, he was a part of our pack. "Did you know that we were supposed to be Mates?" I asked.

"In the beginning, yes," he admitted. "But as time went on, I forgot. Helping you become an Alpha became my biggest priority."

"That's kind of creepy," I told him, laughing.

"Well, when you were four I wasn't thinking about having sex with you!" Stiles protested. "And like I told you… I forgot that we were supposed to be Mates. You became my friend instead."

I nuzzled close to him. "I'm just teasing," I whispered. I laid in his arms until mom called us down for breakfast. He and I pulled on some pajamas and made our way to the dining room. I never expected how awkward it would be. My sisters shot sideways glances as Laura helped my mom set the table. Uncle Peter tried not to make it uncomfortable. My entire family knew I had sex last night.

Quietly, I pulled a chair out for Stiles and sat down, trying to create distance between me and Laura. She looked up from the large pitcher of orange juice. "I didn't get the chance to ask you two… did you want your eggs _well done_?"

Cora snickered. Uncle Peter glared at my sisters. "Laura… that's enough"

"Lighten up, Uncle Peter!" Laura mused. "I'm just joking." Cora poured herself a glass of orange juice and took a sip. "The bacon is almost ready. I wasn't sure if you'd want sausage or if you got your fill last night."

Cora spat her orange juice out, unable to contain her laughter. "That's enough!" Dad growled, his eyes glowing red. "Laura… apologize right now!"

I could feel my face growing hotter and stood up. "I'm not hungry," I said, leaving the dining room and slamming the front door as I left. I could hear Mom and Dad yelling at my sisters for what they said, but it didn't matter. I was mortified and humiliated.

"I'll go after him," Stiles offered.

"No," Dad said. "I will."

I climbed up into my favorite tree, looking out into the woods, imagining all the witty remarks I could have said in the moment, but didn't. Dad approached the tree and climbed up as well, perching himself on a nearby branch. "I'm sorry that happened," he said.

"You're not the one who should apologize," I replied.

"You're right," he agreed. "Your mother and I are happy for you, though. And we're so sorry we didn't believe you."

"Thanks," I said softly.

"I'm proud of you, Derek. More proud than you'll ever know," he told me.

"Why?" I asked. I was not accustomed to hearing my dad speak like this.

"How much time do we have?" he laughed. I grinned, looking over at him "But in all seriousness, you kept to your guns when your own family didn't believe you. That takes courage."

"Uncle Peter believed me," I said.

Dad nodded. "Yeah, he did. And in that respect, he was better to you than I was. I hold a lot of regret for how things changed in our relationship. I have for years. Even after we cleared the air, I knew that things would be different between us. You didn't trust me after that."

"Dad…" I started but he cut me off.

"No, Derek… it's true… and you had every right not to. I failed you in that respect. And that's something I'll never forgive myself for."

"You know… a wise Alpha once told me that you have to forgive for the sake of the pack… that forgiving the individual wolf will make the pack stronger as a whole," I said, stealing a sideways glance.

He seemed shocked that I remembered that lesson from my childhood. "I said that to you when you were just a toddler."

"It stuck with me, I guess," I replied.

"I'm not sure what I did to deserve a son like you… but I'm glad I did it," he said. "Now let's go back inside. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty hungry." My nerves considerably calmer thanks to my chat with Dad, I could feel the pains of hunger creeping in as well. I leapt down from my branch landing gracefully on my feet. Dad walked up, putting his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me slightly. "And don't worry about your sisters… I'll see to it that they don't make any more comments like that."

* * *

Breakfast went forward without a hitch and Stiles and I decided to spend some time alone once the dishes were done.

As we walked through the woods, I found it hard to keep my thoughts and my hands off of my Mate and now that I knew what sex with him was like, I wanted it all the time. As awkward as I felt discussing sex with my parents, this was going to be something I'd need to talk with them about. When the urge finally became too much, I pushed him into a nearby tree, attacking his lips with mine. "You feel it too?" he breathed as I ground my hips against his.

"I can barely control myself," I admitted. "I want you so badly…"

"It's just us… it's fine…" he grunted tugging at my clothes.

"What if I hurt you…"

"You won't," he promised, closing his eyes, he managed to make a blanket and the bottle of lube appear from my room. I smiled wickedly. I had run out of excuses.

Carefully I laid him down on the blanket, separating our bodies only long enough to remove the clothing that inhibited us. It didn't take long before I had us both lubed up and was thrusting into him. I had to resist my more animal urges because I could see when he was in pain, though he wouldn't tell me. After several minutes, I stopped and turned us over, allowing him to be on top. As he rode up and down, I began stroking him, watching as he tossed his head back in pleasure. I placed my free hand on his chest, caressing his body as it moved on mine.

After a while, he complained that his legs were starting to cramp, so we changed it up again. I could feel my knot expanding and I knew I was getting closer and closer. "It's about to happen," I warned him. "Just relax…" Instinct took over and I forced my knot into him. He cried out. "I'm sorry…" I breathed, feeling immensely guilty for having hurt him.

"No," he said, wincing. "It's fine… I just don't think I'm ever going to get used to that…"

"I wish I could control it," I said, reaching down to stroke him, in hopes of taking his mind off of the pain my knot was causing him.

He moaned as my hand moved along his shaft. "That feels better," he sighed.

It didn't take long for him to finish, clenching around me as he did. It caused both of us to yelp, though for entirely different reasons.

We basked in the glow of our ecstasy, and when my knot finally faded, I pulled out. When ten minutes had passed, both of us were feeling the urge to do it again, despite being tired from the first try… still, we had waited years to be able to do this and so we made love a second time, and once again I knotted, though it didn't seem to hurt Stiles nearly as much.

When it started getting darker, Stiles vanished the blanket and lube back to my room and we pulled on our clothes to begin our trek back to the house. I noticed Stiles was limping slightly and became worried. "Did I hurt you?" I asked softly, guilt welling up.

He smiled and kissed me. "No. I'm alright, really…"

* * *

The next day, the urges were even stronger… to the extent that I could barely concentrate on anything else. I needed to talk to my dad. He was in the shed behind the house tinkering with a few tools that I'd never seen him use before.

"Can I ask you about something personal?" I asked as I approached.

"Sure! What's on your mind?" he replied.

I gulped. "I… I'm having a hard time controlling myself."

Luckily Dad caught on without need for further explanation. "Is Stiles alright?"

"Yeah… he's feeling it too. But we can't just lay around having sex all the time. How do we make it stop?"

"Mating Bonds are tricky. They're designed to help create the strongest possible young. The drive to mate is high at first until the mating produces young… afterwards, it only increases around the full moon," he replied.

"But Stiles is a guy… how are we supposed to have kids?" I asked.

Dad winced. "I wish I could help you there… unfortunately that's as far as my knowledge on the subject goes. Laura was conceived shortly after your mom and I established our Mating Bond…"

I sighed. "I never imagined that too much sex would be a problem I would face. I'm exhausted…"

Dad laughed. "You'll figure it out, Derek. You always do."

* * *

We decided to talk to Deaton. We hoped that maybe he would have answers because Stiles and I couldn't keep having sex that often. The more we tried to resist, the more futile our resistance became.

Luckily, Deaton had an answer. "I have a spell book somewhere. I'll need time to find it… but it contains a rather involved ritual designed for this problem. Whenever we're paired with a werewolf, we're that werewolf's Mate. Usually it's not a problem because the act of sealing the Mating Bond produces young and after that, things level out. But from time to time, there would be a Male-Male pairing. The mating urge would never die down and it would drive the two insane. The first time it happened, the werewolf accidentally killed his Mate. We knew we needed to prevent that from ever happening again."

I felt my heart race. I couldn't imagine killing Stiles, but then again… the cravings were becoming more and more intense.

"What does the ritual do?" Stiles asked.

"It allows you to take advantage of the Mating Bond and bear young," Stiles and I both froze.

"You mean he'll get…" I said, making a gesture near my stomach.

Deaton nodded. "The magic will only allow for one child… but one is all that's needed to calm the cravings."

I hugged Stiles tightly, amazed at how excited I was for the news. He and I were going to have a baby. I looked at Deaton. "If that's the case then I'm going to need a raise if I'll be supporting a child."

Deaton laughed. "I think we can make that work."

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed the Hale Family feels... As always, I invite and encourage you to give feedback! If you're looking for something else with lots of feels in the meantime, I encourage you to read "Centauri Coeunt" and "Perdition" which are my two most recent stories. Happy reading!


	9. Chapter 9

It took several days for Deaton to find the book. My parents helped us put Stiles up in a hotel and protected the doorway with mountain ash so I couldn't get it. Things had escalated that much. Deaton told us to meet him at the book store. That meant Stiles and I would be in the car together, but we figured we could hold it together long enough.

When he stepped into the car, we both had to fight the urge to kiss one another. His scent was enough to send my hormones into a fury. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too."

As we rode, Stiles attempted to take my mind off sex by telling me about the funny encounter he had with one of the hotel maids. "She kept vacuuming up the Mountain Ash. When I told her it was there on purpose and I would clean it, she told me that I might be possessed by the devil and that was why I had tattoos. She offered to bring her priest."

I laughed, imagining the scene and the exasperated look on Stiles' face. "I just can't wait for all of this to be over. I haven't slept without you by my side in years. I don't like it."

"Well, hopefully Deaton will be able to fix this," Stiles said. As we pulled into the book store's parking lot, I had to quickly open the door. Stiles' scent was becoming too intoxicating. I rushed out of the car, panting for air that didn't smell like him. "Are you alright?"

I looked up at him, resisting the instinct to shift. Stiles quickly put himself downwind of me. Deaton could see me struggling and came out, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder, I growled at him, glaring before I could pull myself back together. I was shaking. I had never before been so out of control… even on the full moon.

"Are you alright?" Deaton asked. Stiles watched, his face painted with worry.

I nodded slowly, forcing myself to stand up. "I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me."

"I do. Luckily I figured out how to fix it," Deaton replied. "Come on… let's go inside." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small purple flower, handing it to Stiles. "That's wolfsbane. I need you to hold that flower while you're around him. It'll cover your scent, for the most part. Just make sure you wash your hands before you touch him. It's toxic to werewolves."

Stiles took the flower, watching sadly as I struggled to keep my composure. Once we were inside, Deaton switched the sign to "closed" and we retreated to the back room. Deaton was right, though… the wolfsbane helped. Though I consciously knew I couldn't help the urges I was having, I felt guilty for coming so close to harming Stiles and Deaton.

There was a large leather-bound book on the table. It was much larger than the one we used to translate Stiles' tattoos. "This is the Book of Days and Nights," Deaton told us, his voice somber. "It's one of the oldest works in our culture. It contains untold magic and is not to be taken lightly."

He opened it, flipping straight to the ritual. The book was written in the language of the tattoos, but it was easier to read than before. I scanned the page. "The perigee. We say the incantation and during the perigee we attempt mating… Are you kidding me? I can barely contain myself now! How am I supposed to get through that?"

"Why?" Stiles asked. "What happens during the perigee?"

Deaton turned to Stiles. "The moon will be closest to the earth. The bond between you two will be at its strongest. But unfortunately, it's the one full moon that can strain even the most in-control werewolves."

"I could kill you in this process," I added, wanting to make sure that the full gravity of this situation was conveyed.

"You won't," Stiles replied.

"I almost did in the parking lot!" I countered.

"The perigee is two nights away," Deaton told us.

"I don't see how that's any help if Stiles' life is in danger either way!"

"We can use electricity to control your urge to shift," Deaton said. "The experience won't be a pleasant one for either of you… but it doesn't have to be if it gets the job done."

"And I suppose you just happen to have a constant source of electricity that won't kill us?" I challenged.

"Actually, I do," Deaton smiled, rummaging through a door, he pulled out a collar.

"No… I'm not wearing a collar. I'm not a dog!" I said. I was feeling particularly irritable and I knew I was being difficult, but I was at a loss for how to stop.

"You only have to wear it for as long as it takes to finish the ritual. You can take it off after that and you won't be much of a threat," Deaton explained.

I reluctantly took the collar from him. He showed me how to operate it and even gave me extra batteries for "just in case."

* * *

The time spent waiting for the perigee to happen was excruciating. I told my family about the plan and all of them were worried, even if they didn't say anything. Mom tried to help calm my nerves with one of my favorite desserts. She and I sat at the kitchen table eating together.

"You'll get through this, Derek… and you'll be a stronger wolf for it," she told me, breaking the silence.

"I know I'll get through it," I replied. "My concern is whether or not Stiles will."

Mom reached across, taking my hand in hers. "You have a connection to him spanning nearly your entire life. Use that as a source of strength. That's a lot of time to love somebody."

Laura and Uncle Peter sat down with us. "I might tease you, Derek… but it's because that's my job as your big sister. You're going to do the ritual and make me an Aunt so that I can spoil that child unmercifully. You've fought hard for this. You deserve it."

I was shocked. In my 21 years, that was the nicest thing she had ever said to me. "And what do I do if our plan fails?" I asked softly.

Uncle Peter shifted in his seat, considering his answer carefully. "If something goes wrong, we will be here for you as your pack and as your family. Stiles is one of us now. If there's anything you need us to do to help the ritual go smoothly, all you need to do is ask."

That night as I lay in my bed, I stared out my window at the moon. For the first time in my life, I wished I weren't a werewolf. None of this would be happening if I weren't. I would be able to love my Mate and let it rest at that… until the realization struck me. What if this was a test? Stiles could have easily forgotten about this test… he'd forgotten a lot of other things, and even if he hadn't forgotten, he wasn't allowed to tell me beforehand, anyway. All of the tests were designed to help me become a better Alpha. In previous tests, I'd had to learn persistence and forgiveness. What if this test was designed to help me learn self-control. An Alpha had to be the one in control at all moments. He couldn't allow his biology and emotions to dictate his life for him. The collar would be a short cut… an easy way through a larger problem. I needed to learn to control the urge and control myself… by myself.

* * *

**A/N**: Thanks for reading. Now you finally know why this story got the name it did. I apologize for how short it is, but I wanted the actual ritual to be an entire chapter in and of itself. As always, I highly encourage feedback! If you have an account on the AO3, I'm better able to respond to feedback there than I am here.


	10. Chapter 10

I spent the day of the perigee reciting the incantation for the spell. It helped distract me from the maddening urge to mate. As night approached, my family wished me luck as I ventured to the spot Stiles and I agreed to. The hotel room wouldn't work. We would be far too noisy and there was a good chance things might get broken… and my biggest fear was that Stiles would be one of those things that got broken.

The moon was bright and its pull was strong. I had endured at least one perigee every year since I first started to feel the moon, but never before was it like this. My attempts at restraint had me shaking. A warm breeze blew through the woods, carrying Stiles' scent. It made me woozy. I forced myself to keep a steady pace as I finally reached the location… the place where we'd had sex before. Stiles was sitting on a blanket waiting for me.

He smiled at me. He was wearing the strange pants he usually wore under the red robe and nothing else. The sight of his body caused me to tense. "Are you ready?"

Slowly, I knelt in front of him. "I'm scared," I whimpered.

"I am, too," he replied softly.

"Stiles… if I hurt you…"

He caressed my cheek. My entire body went rigid at his touch. Another breeze blew by, blasting his scent into my face and filling my lungs. I could feel my eyes turning gold as it hit me. "Promise me you won't blame yourself," he said.

"I can't make that promise," I replied, shaking my head.

He stuck his pinky finger up. "Promise me."

I reluctantly grasped it with my own pinky finger. "I promise."

"Alright," he said, taking on a business demeanor. "Let's get the ritual started." We agreed that it would be best to be naked before we recited the incantation as we didn't know what effect it would have on us and the act of taking off our clothes might put Stiles in more danger.

I closed my eyes, reciting the spell with Stiles. Immediately, I felt myself shift. _No!_ I thought. It would be much easier to hurt him like this. I moved Stiles so that he was on all fours and positioned myself behind him. My claws sunk into his hips. I pressed myself to his opening and was relieved to find that he had done the prep work already. His tight warmth encompassed me, I whimpered as I lost control, driving myself into him, causing him to scream out in pain. I wanted to slow down. I wanted to make love to him and cherish his body the way it was meant to be, but I couldn't. Tears streamed down my face as I heard the agony in his voice, his pleas for me to slow down, and his pulse rising ever higher.

"I'm… trying…" I managed. My wolf side was mostly in charge, though. He cried out as each thrust brought him more and more pain. As I drove myself up into him, I pulled him backwards, increasing the intensity of the way in which I used his body. I howled in frustration as I tried to stop, but he felt so good… so moist… so inviting. He was pleasure and he hugged my length like velvet. _No!_ I told myself. _He's so much more than that. He's my best friend. He's my protector. He is the thing that makes my heart keep beating. He is the last thing I see before I fall to sleep at night and the first thing I see when I wake up. He is my Mate._ My pace instantly slowed.

I fought my wolf. My dual natures warred as my body continued to fuck into Stiles. My pace became less frenzied and more rhythmic. I turned him over and set him gently on his back before reentering him. I began to move along his body rather than just into it. A low growl came from my throat and I placed my face in the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent, keeping my new pace as he worked with my body to bring us both pleasure. I kissed his shoulder before sinking my teeth into the soft flesh. He cried out, scratching his nails into my back. His warm blood filled my mouth. It was slightly sweet.

I pulled my fangs from his skin, his blood staining my teeth as I pressed my lips to his. He wrapped his arms around me, pushing my length further into him.

At last, I was in control. My body was trembling and my control was not concrete, but for now, I was calling the shots. It wasn't much longer before my knot began to swell. Due to the roughness, it didn't take much to fit it into him and I instantly began filling him with my seed. He erupted onto my chest and stomach and for the first time in almost a week, I had a sense of clarity.

He kissed me. "You did it," he whispered.

I was out of breath and could barely speak. I barely had enough strength to hold myself above him and we had to move so that he was resting on top of me, my knot still tying us together.

Everything faded out of focus as exhaustion overtook me.

I awoke as beams of light trickled down onto my face. The ground around us was wet with dew. Stiles was still asleep on top of me and I was still buried inside him. Lying there, I didn't move for fear of waking him. When he finally did wake up, he pulled himself off of me and collapsed by my side. "How do you feel?" I asked.

His shoulder looked bad. It would need to be cleaned and possibly stitched. "I'm sore," he replied honestly. "But it worked."

I sat up, reaching for my clothes and pulling them on. After helping Stiles to his feet, I kissed him deeply. "I figured it out," I said.

"The test of control?" he asked. I nodded. "How?"

"It sort of came to me," I shrugged. "I'm just glad that it's over now."

"All that's left is for you to become an Alpha," he told me. "You're ready."

I helped him back into his clothes and we slowly walked back home. Our lives were going to change. There was now a child on the way, and we would need to prepare for that. But this prospect excited me because there was nothing I wanted more than to begin a family with my Mate.

* * *

**A/N**: I know the last couple of chapters have been rather porn-y but now that they have more control, it'll be more couple and family bonding. Prepare for some feels... And I know this chapter is kind of short... but I really wanted to just focus on Derek and Stiles getting through this rather difficult challenge. Let me know what you think!


	11. Chapter 11

Mom applied a warm rag to the bite marks on Stiles' back and shoulder. Guilt tore through me as he winced. I had to look away. The skin was jagged and the wounds looked deep. "We just need to keep it clean and covered. It'll heal on its own… you did surprisingly little damage," she said. "And considering… the fact that this was all that happened, you two got lucky."

That didn't help my guilt even though I'm sure she thought it would. "How are you guys feeling now?" Uncle Peter asked.

"I can think normally," Stiles replied. "That's a relief."

"I hurt my Mate," I said softly.

"Derek, you promised…" Stiles whispered. "We knew the risks…"

"And I told you that was a promise that I couldn't keep," I replied.

Mom looked up from her task for just a moment and stared into my eyes. "Derek… accidents like this can happen. You can't beat yourself up for it. And compared to what could have happened… this really isn't bad."

"Where's Dad?" I asked. I wanted to talk to him… to see if this was really true or if it was just a case of them trying to calm me down.

"He's at the lumber yard."

"Why?"

"You honestly expect him not to build a ton of stuff for the newest addition to our family?" Uncle Peter replied with a laugh. "He's already sketched out the plans for a cradle and a changing table."

"And he'll tell you the exact same thing we are!" Mom interjected. She knew me too well.

I watched Stiles' face as mom applied medicated creams to his wound. The pressure as mom rubbed it into his skin caused Stiles to cry out in pain. Immediately his eyes shot to me, afraid of my reaction. I felt an ache in my chest. "Derek… it's not that bad."

"Bull shit!"

* * *

Stiles is beginning to show. The wound on his shoulder had healed, but there was a scar. Every time I saw it, it reminded me of the dangers of losing control.

There were moments when it seemed like Laura was more excited about our baby than I was… which was saying something. She had already amassed a huge collection of baby items and was becoming somewhat of an unstoppable force. We were running out of room to put everything.

Dad had already built a huge crib with ornate decorations and was in the process of painting it. The skeleton of the changing table he was building sat in the shed.

Stiles laid in bed and I alongside him, my face near his belly. "How will we figure out if it's a boy or a girl?" I asked.

"I don't know… I guess we'll just have to be surprised," he replied.

I rubbed his belly. "Have you thought about names?"

"Actually no," he replied. "The only names I know are those of your family members. There are very few names I remember from my world…"

"Well, of the few… what are they?"

Stiles thought for a moment. "Well, there's the name Calix for boys…"

"I like it," I whispered. "I like the name Selene for a girl."

"Me, too."

Kissing his abdomen, I asked, "Are you a Calix or a Selene?"

* * *

I felt the baby move. I don't remember ever being so excited before. "You were a very active baby, too," Mom told me when I rushed down stairs to share the news. Stiles followed slowly.

"I'm hungry," he complained.

"I can cook something if you'd like," Mom suggested, starting to get up.

"No, it's alright," he said. "What I'm craving, you can't cook."

Mom was rather proud of her skills as a chef. "Try me."

"I want pickles on top of oreos dipped in ketchup," he replied.

I stared in shock. "That sounds disgusting…"

Stiles laughed. "I know… but I really want it for some reason… that or a tuna and vanilla ice cream sandwich…"

"You're not kissing me after you eat that," I said, only partially joking.

Stiles laughed. "I wouldn't even try."

* * *

Stiles' strange cravings are getting worse. I tease him about it sometimes, but it seems as though he's genuinely embarrassed by the things his body wants right now. His stomach has gotten much bigger.

Stiles and I have also been having a recurring dream. In the dream, our child is born a healthy baby boy. We're starting to think that it's a sign.

I began to worry about how exactly Stiles would give birth. His body wasn't exactly designed for this. I decided to talk to Deaton one day while working. He seemed to know enough about this, it seemed only natural that he'd be able to help.

"I can perform a C-Section," he told me.

"How? You're the owner of a book store!"

"Where I came from, I was a doctor before I was chosen to guide my Mate," he replied.

I wasn't expecting that answer. "And will he be alright after?"

Deaton nodded. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

My nerves are shot. Deaton doesn't have a medical license here so he can't get enough pain killer to make this easy on Stiles. I hold his hand and kiss his forehead as Deaton makes the incision. He squeezes my hands as tight as he can as his screams nearly deafen me. Mom is in the room with us and I look to her for support. "He'll be ok, sweetie," she whispers. But his screams say otherwise.

Tears are streaming down his face as Deaton cuts into his stomach. Blood is covering the table. It's metallic scent fills my nostrils. "You're doing great, Stiles…"

It takes all the control I have to stay so strong for him. Inside, I'm crumbling and there is nothing I wouldn't give to be in his place and experience the pain for him. His eyes begin to flutter. "Breathe, Stiles… breathe," Deaton shouts. His screams are fading. He's fading.

"Wha-what's happening?"

"He may be going into shock…"

"Damn it, Stiles! Stay with me," I shout, bringing my face close to his. "You're almost there. Visions dance in my head of what might happen if he doesn't make it through this. None of them end well for Deaton. But those thoughts aren't helpful. "You said he'd be fine!" I growl accusingly.

"I've almost got the baby out…" Deaton insists. "Just a few… more…. There!"

He pulls out a boy, snips the umbilical cord and passes the baby off to my mom who immediately wraps him in a towel and begins wiping off the birth fluid and blood. She keeps a steady eye on me. Stiles is no longer squeezing my hand and I can barely hear his pulse.

"We're losing him," I say, my voice begins to betray my panic. "Stiles, baby… just… hold on. If you can hear me… hold on."

Deaton works feverishly. "Medical intervention isn't going to save him…" he says after several minutes of trying to bring Stiles back. "We need magic."

"The only source of which is dying on this table!" I shouted. "DO SOMETHING!"

Deaton closed his eyes, racking his brain for something that could work. "You two have been tied together for so long that there's a small chance that you might be able to channel some of it through your Mate bond."

"Just tell me what I need to do!"

"Focus on your bond with him. Draw the magic into you and then push it back, directing it to heal," he said.

"You're not allowed to die on me," I cry, clasping his hand tightly. I close my eyes, focusing on everything I've ever been through with him. I feel his magic start leaching into me. I then push it back to him, imagining him completely healed. I look over to his bloody abdomen. "It isn't working!"

"Just keep focus."

I pour into it all the love and admiration I feel for my Mate. "It's working…" Mom says. I concentrate harder. He weakly squeezes his hand against mine.

"Is our baby alright?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I kiss his cheek, overcome by my relief that he survived. "It's a boy," Mom tells us.

Once Stiles begins steadily gaining strength, I leave him alone so he can rest. Mom hands me baby Calix who, despite the commotion, was asleep. He was a rather large baby and by my estimation probably weighed in at about 8 lbs. I counted his fingers and toes and my wolf became instantly skittish to allow anyone around him. I walk him out to my family who seem just about as nerve-wracked as I had been. Laura jumps at the opportunity to hold Calix and I gingerly pass him over to her.

"I felt a shift in our pack," Dad says. "Is Stiles alright?"

I nod. "It was touch and go for a moment… but he's ok."

Uncle Peter hugs and congratulates me. I feel completely drained. I don't want to be with other people. I just want to be with my son and my Mate. After everyone has a chance to hold Calix, they pass him back to me and I return to Stiles' side. Deaton helps me move him up to our room and I lie in bed next to him, holding our baby.

At long last, I place Calix in his crib and curl up next to Stiles and fall asleep.

* * *

**A/N**: Yay Sterek Baby! And speaking of Sterek... follow this link to vote for our favorite Sourwolf and Sterek in this online poll at the Backlot (Unfortunately, FanFiction doesn't let me post URLs... so you'll have to find it on your own, or you can find it in the comments section of this chapter on the AO3.) Also, give feedback... I love hearing what my readers think!


	12. Chapter 12

Calix woke me up with his cries. I started his feeding and sat in a rocking chair with him. Stiles stirred. "Is Calix alright?" he asked groggily.

"Yeah," I replied softly. "Go back to sleep."

"Let me know if you need me," he said before turning over and fading back out of consciousness.

Only a week old, I already couldn't imagine my life without Calix in it. When he was finished eating, I put him in position and started gently patting his back to burp him. Once everything was settled, I laid him back in his crib and watched as he slept before I finally crawled back into bed and cuddled up next to Stiles.

I hadn't slept a whole lot since Calix was born, but I didn't mind. Stiles was still very weak from the birth. Mom and Laura would, on occasion, force me to go take a nap but I never slept for more than an hour or so. When dawn finally broke, I got up and joined my family for breakfast.

Once we were all settled, Dad asked me to go get Stiles. "There's something we need to talk about."

I hated conversations that started that way, but I went back upstairs and roused my Mate and helped him downstairs. Calix was sound asleep, so I decided it was best to let him rest. Stiles was barely able to walk on his own, but his strength was slowly returning and he always seemed slightly stronger when he and I were in close proximity to one another.

When we were finally back down in the dining room, we began eating. Dad let us finish our meal before speaking. "There's a shift in the pack," he began. He mentioned it before when Calix was born.

"But Stiles is alright… Deaton said it would take him a while to regain his strength…" I said.

"That's not what I meant," Dad replied. "I felt this shift when Calix was born and it took me a while to figure out what exactly that shift meant. At first, I thought it was because we had a new Pack member… but this was different."

Dad shot a look at Mom who picked up the explanation. "When you were at Stiles' side, there was a moment when your eyes flashed."

"I was pissed! I thought I was going to lose him…"

"Your eyes flashed red."

I looked around to my family members. Mom, Dad, and Uncle Peter looked proud, Laura looked pissed, and Cora seemed somehow bored.

"I thought that Alpha had to be passed when a beta stole it, or the pack's existing Alpha died of natural causes…" I said.

"Usually, that's how it gets passed. But there are moments when a wolf rises to the occasion At that point, the power of the pack will shift and the current Alpha can pass the title on," Dad told me.

"What would happen to you?" I asked. I didn't want the title if it would cost me my father.

"I would still be an Alpha until you were trained to take over in my place. After that point, I'll be your Beta."

"How does it work?"

"It's as simple as you accepting your new role in the pack," he replied. He leaned forward, his eyes flashing red. "Do you accept your new role?"

I looked around at my family once more. All but Laura were encouraging me to take it. At last I looked at Stiles. "I told you that you were destined to become a great Alpha."

"I accept," I said. I felt a sudden surge of power. I felt stronger than I had ever felt before. Everyone seemed to shift slightly. It seemed that having two Alphas in the pack boosted everyone at least somewhat, just as adding Stiles and his magic did. That rush of power was only punctuated by a sharp searing sensation in my back. I winced against the pain. I knew instantly that the third part of the triskele had faded from Stiles' back and etched its way onto mine.

"How is this fair?" Laura asked. All of our eyes shot to her. "Just because he is Mated to some magical person and has a child… that makes him worthy of being the next Alpha?"

"Laura!" Peter scolded. I knew that he likely understood her sentiments though. It had never been lost on me that he had wanted to be Alpha, but it went to my dad, his younger brother. "He is your new Alpha. Show respect."

"No!" she protested, staring at me.

Dad grabbed her wrist as she tried to leave the table. "The fact that you're acting like this is probably a very good reason."

Stiles decided to share the information he had on the subject. "Derek was destined to be an Alpha before there was even a Hale line of werewolves. I'm sorry if you're disappointed, Laura… but Alpha was never intended to pass to you or your sister."

"And I'm supposed to trust your word, Stiles?" Laura shot back. "Until it happened, you had forgotten you were supposed to be his Mate. Excuse me if I'm a little skeptical. How do we know you didn't use your magic to influence this from the get-go?"

"Laura, stop it!" Mom ordered. "You were perfectly fine with Stiles and everything when you became an aunt."

"I understand how you feel, Laura," Uncle Peter said, trying to calm tensions. "But you need to think of the Pack before you think of yourself. I was convinced I would become the next Hale Alpha. I was angry. I felt robbed. And you know what, I didn't deserve it. Look what your brother has done… everything he has accomplished. If I hadn't gone through what I did… I never would have been able to be there for him when nobody else was. There may come a day when Calix needs you. Wouldn't you want to be there for him?"

I could tell Laura was fighting back tears. She shot a defeated glance at me and whispered, "I'm sorry," before retreating to her room. I was hurt. I loved my sister and I didn't want her to be angry with me for this.

"Cora, is there anything you want to get out because after this, no more," Dad said.

Cora shrugged. "Ever since I can remember, Derek has talked about becoming an Alpha. I never thought it'd go to me so I'm alright."

"This definitely didn't go as I expected," Mom sighed, pouring herself some juice. "Are you alright, Derek?"

"Yeah," I replied softly. "I'm fine." I could hear Calix's cries and excused myself to tend to his needs.

* * *

When Cora graduated from High School, we threw her a party. Some of her friends came. All of them seemed to be misfits, but as a werewolf with a Mate who could perform magic, who was I to judge?

She was nervous about leaving for college, but mom and dad were adamant that she go. "Derek didn't have to go to college!"

"Derek had other things on his plate," Dad said.

She didn't like that answer, and honestly, neither did I. It wasn't fair to her that she was held to a different standard than I was, but I agreed that it was in her best interests. She got high scores on her exams and got into every college and university she applied to.

The fight to get her to go became even more complicated when Laura met the man who we discovered was her Mate.

He was a human. But, remarkably, he was fine with the fact that his girlfriend and her family were werewolves. Laura and I weren't close… especially not since I became the Alpha, but I made sure she knew I was happy for her. Having a Mate was an amazing experience.

Our fight with Cora became more complicated, still, when Laura announced that she was pregnant. I was consumed with baby mania in the same way Laura had been when Stiles was pregnant. We bought her everything she'd need. The prospect of being the sort of uncle to her child that Uncle Peter was to me excited me more than anything. I had one goal for the next generation of Hales. I wanted to make sure that no matter what happened, the succession of Alpha wouldn't tear them apart like it did me and Laura.

* * *

**A/N**: OK so I'm a bit stuck on this story. There's something that I've left out and I can't finish it yet because I don't know what it is... Feel free to throw suggestions my way!


	13. Chapter 13

A knock on the wooden door frame jolted me from my nap. "Derek?" it was Cora's soft voice. I sat up. I was finally able to sleep. Stiles had finished healing and was helping to take care of Calix. I could tell that Cora felt bad for waking me, but she was my sister and I would always make time for her.

"What is it?" I asked, patting a spot on the bed, inviting her to sit next to me.

"I'm going to be leaving in a month and I need to ask a favor of you," she said.

"Of course!" I put my arm around her, squeezing her to my side. "Anything."

"There's a friend of mine. His father beats him up and I'm not going to be here to help him once I move off to college," she explained. "I was wondering if you could possibly turn him… bring him into the pack. He'd be much happier here… and safer."

I remembered a kid from Cora's graduation party. There were splotches on his skin that made me suspect abuse. I remember him being really sweet. I would definitely do what it took to protect him. "I'll talk to Dad about it… but Cora… turning someone has its risks. The bite of an Alpha can also kill a person."

"He locks Isaac in a freezer because he knows that Isaac is claustrophobic. Even dying would be better than the life he lives," Cora said. "And his father deserves much worse than death."

"I don't disagree with you about his father… but in the end, it has to be Isaac' s choice," I replied. "And we need to ask the rest of the Pack. Bringing him in will affect them, too."

She looked downtrodden. "But what if they say no?"

"Even if they don't want me to turn him, I will still protect him," I promised.

"Thank you, Derek," she said, leaning up and giving me a kiss on the cheek. "This really means a lot to me."

That night as we sat down for dinner, I cleared my throat and put forth Cora's request. I could see her shifting nervously, wanting so much for the family to agree.

"Do you feel that the risk is worth the benefit of turning him?" Dad asked.

I nodded. "I do. Nobody should have to live like that. But I won't offer him the bite unless we are all agreed that we should add him to our pack."

"What's the option of we're not all agreed?" Laura asked.

"I'll do my best to protect him," I replied.

"And how will you protect us? I mean, after all… you'll be exposing what we are to someone," she pointed out. "Sure, we can protect ourselves. But what about Calix or my child?"

I hadn't thought of it like that. What if he _didn't_ want the bite? What if my attempt to help put him at risk? What if my attempt to help put us all at risk… especially the children?

"I say we deal with that if it comes up. We need to help him, though," Dad said.

Stiles shrugged. "I can look through one of the books and see if there's something about memory magic."

Modifying the kid's memory was something that I was hesitant to do. It seemed like a violation of his personhood akin to rape. "I don't want to go that route." He gave a nod. "So let's vote. Who is in favor?"

As I looked around, everyone's hand was raised, even Laura's. We were unanimous in our decision. Isaac Lahey was to be offered the bite.

* * *

Cora, Stiles, and I sat at a café waiting on Isaac to show. "It's been 45 minutes, are you sure he's coming?" Stiles asked.

"He said he would," Cora replied. "He always tries to get out of the house when he can."

"Could there be something wrong?" Stiles asked.

"I hope not," she whispered.

"Do you know where he lives?" I asked, fearing for him.

She got up. I could tell she was afraid that something was wrong. Stiles and I followed her back to the car as she tapped out yet another text asking where he was.

We climbed in, Cora giving me directions. I could hear her uneven breaths, but I couldn't bring myself to say the words that would comfort her because I didn't want to make promises I couldn't keep. As we pulled into the driveway of house number 885, I got an uneasy feeling.

We knocked on the door and I tried focusing my hearing in an attempt to figure out how many people were in the house. Faintly, I could hear screaming. I told Stiles and Cora to back up. I swung my foot around, kicking the door with such force that it flew off its hinges, landing with a loud bang.

"I could have just used magic to unlock it," Stiles said.

I looked back at him, smiling. "Why would you? Didn't you see I had my key?"

"Flirt later!" Cora growled. "Isaac might be in trouble." She pushed past us, calling Isaac's name.

"Keep watch," I told Stiles, following my sister. I could hear the banging much more clearly. "There's something in the basement," I said. "Do you hear that?"

She paused, concentrating before nodding. Immediately, we rushed to find the entrance. "LET ME OUT!" the faint voice kept calling. "PLEASE!"

"Over here!" I told her, finally. We rushed down the creaky steps. The banging and pleas for help got louder.

"Oh my God! He's in the freezer!" Cora cried, trying to pry the latch off, but she wasn't strong enough.

I shifted. "Stand back," I ordered. Taking hold of the latch, I pulled it with all my strength, drawing also from my link with Stiles. The metal warped. I poured more of my strength into the effort. Finally, it broke off and I threw the freezer door open. The thin blonde was shaking. "It's alright," I told him. "We're here."

I helped him out of the freezer. He was still trembling. Cora pulled him into a tight hug. "H-how did you f-find me?" he stammered.

"When you didn't show, I knew something had to be wrong," Cora replied. "We came here to find you."

He clutched Cora, as if trying to convince himself she was really there and really helping him. I remembered what it was like to have that faltering view of reality. Growing up, I often questioned my sanity when it came to whether or not Stiles was real. Looking around, I saw different manners in which Isaac had been "punished" by his father. It sickened me both as a human being and as a parent.

"Not that I'm not grateful to see you here… why _are_ you all here?" he asked once we had gone back upstairs to the living room. Cora got him a glass of water and we were making sure he drank it slowly, unsure when he might have last had a chance to drink anything.

"I asked my family to protect you once I move off to college," Cora replied. "We wanted to offer you an opportunity to join our family."

"My dad would never agree to that," Isaac said solemnly.

I sat next to him. "Your father will have no choice in this matter. This will be entirely _your_ decision. Isaac, what if I told you I could offer you a way to live longer, age more slowly, heal more quickly, be stronger, faster, have better senses than the people around you?"

"I'd say you read a lot of comic books," he replied.

I glanced to Cora, allowing my eyes to flash red. "Isaac, look at me," she said, standing plainly in front of him. Taking a deep breath, she shifted.

"What the hell?" Isaac whispered, standing up in alarm.

Cora put her hands up. "Don't be afraid," she said. "It's still me. I just look a little different."

"You look like a…"

"Werewolf?"

Isaac gulped, nodding.

"That's because we are. My family is a pack. I can offer you protection from your father whether you join us or not… but if you agree to join, I can make the promise that you'll never again have to fear being locked in a freezer," I said.

"He wasn't always like that," Isaac said softly. "Before my mom and brother died, he was nice. He was caring. I knew he loved me."

"It's your choice, Isaac," I said. "And if you need time to think about it, I understand."

He shook his head. "No. I don't need time. I want to."

"You're sure?" Stiles asked. "You can't reverse this."

"Yeah. What do you have to do?"

"There's one thing the legends got right. You turn someone through biting them," I replied.

"Does it hurt?"

"My fangs are going to pierce your skin. Of course it hurts!"

He looked queasy, holding out his arm. "Just do it quickly…"

Knowing he'd already endured enough pain, it was one thing I could try and make sure hurt as little as possible. I quickly shifted, letting my fangs sink into him. The moment his metallic blood touched my tongue, I retracted. He did his best not to cry out, but I could tell from the shade of red which now tinged his pale face that it still hurt quite a bit.

"Did it work?" he asked.

"Well… you're not bleeding black goo yet… so it looks promising… but only time will really be able to tell," I replied, keeping my eyes trained on the puncture wounds in his arm. I'd never watched another person change. My entire family was born as werewolves so it was in our blood. Even Calix would eventually feel the pull of the moon and turn. I wasn't sure how long it would take before he began to heal.

All of us watched in silence. Silence only broken by an angry shout as Isaac's dad entered the house. "What the hell is going on here?" His wild eyes trained on Isaac. "I thought I locked you up!"

The look of fear and panic in his eyes stirred something within me and before I could stop myself, I lunged across the room, tackling the older man to the floor. One hand held his throat, the other was raised, ready to claw out his eyes. "Derek stop!" Cora screamed.

I could feel my eyes flashing red. They were reflected back to me in Mr. Lahey's octagonal glasses. He looked afraid, which amused me because something told me that this was the first time he'd ever been made to feel helpless and weak. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't tear out your throat?" I demanded.

"Derek…" Stiles said softly. "Think about what you're doing."

"I am, Stiles. What this man did to Isaac is inexcusable!"

"I'm his father! I did what was best!" Mr. Lahey shouted. His words further fueled my anger.

"From now on, you will have no contact with Isaac that he doesn't request. If you ever try to hurt him again, I will kill you. Do you understand?" I said, my voice low.

He nodded. I stood up. "Come on, you guys."

* * *

My family welcomed Isaac with open arms. He became the little brother I always wanted. I was fiercely protective of him, nearly as much as I was of Calix who simply adored him.

At Isaac's request, his father signed papers naming Stiles and me as Isaac's legal guardians. We spent several nights with him crying on our shoulders after Cora left.

When he went back to school, Stiles and I surprised him with a car. It wasn't brand new, but he loved it nonetheless.

Cora came back when Laura had her baby. A beautiful baby girl named Artemis. We were surprised to find that she was human. Laura decided she would allow her daughter to make the choice as to whether or not she gets turned, which was a decision I liked and respected.

Calix and Artemis grew up like siblings. She chose the bite at the age of 16 and when she was 21 she began having a series of strange dreams. Dreams that I knew well. Having grown up hearing the stories of how Stiles and I encountered one another, she knew what it meant.

I was proud of Calix. He was never jealous. In fact, he seemed almost relieved that the burden of Alpha was not going to go to him and he supported Artemis as she worked through the trials.

Decades passed and the pack grew. We became stronger, closer. My parents passed away and eventually, I could feel old age creeping up on me as well. Like my father had with me, I passed the title of Alpha on to my niece, training her for the responsibility of leading the Hale line. Stiles and I lived side-by-side, watching as our dreams became reality.

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed this story. Look out for my next story... "Fast Times at Beacon Hills Academy".


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